You lose when you die
by Kyrie Lorelei
Summary: 'The world was like a chess board, sacrifices needed to be made and one mistake could cost you your life.' Harry finds a death note not long before he starts Hogwarts, what will his choice of justice be? Will be slash later on.-STORY HAS BEEN ADOPTED-
1. And so the game begins

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Death Note. Then I would have refrained from killing some and offed some other-more annoying people.**

**Warnings: This might(probably)become slash but that will not be for awhile. There's neglect, deaths and probably violence. I do not yet now if there will be any underage drinking or sex. We just gotta find out when we get there, right?**

1. And so the game begins

.-.

Harry sat crouched in the garden, trying to pull out weeds with a pincer grip was not an easy thing. He was exhausted; he could almost feel his brain fry in the heat of the sun. The thick ink black hair was as usual messed up to the right side of his head and had formed a natural side bang over his forehead. He wore a pair of washed out jeans that would probably never match him in width. His thin frame was hidden under a grey-like t-shirt. Grey-like because once it had probably been black but had somehow faded considerably, a reminder to why you should not let Uncle Vernon wash clothes.

The Dursleys was one off the worse type of people. Their ways were defiled and disgusted him as he observed them. Day after day he got more and more surprised by the things he heard. How his uncle could do absolutely anything for money, oh he treasured his family of course. Not that Harry was a part of it. He was just living at their home and they so _generously_ took care of him.

You could think that their soon to be twelve year old son was at least somewhat innocent. But no, he learnt directly from his father. The only thing he didn't have that his father had was some of that disgusting mustache and the ability to use his brain. Even if it was just a little.

Harry saw them as lacking and considerably stupid humans. He could easily say that he was disgusted just by being the same race as them. Sighting, he threw himself back so he could lay on the shadowed side of the yard. Not that they had caused something really bad to happen. Yet.

They could still probably get charged, his uncle continuously stole money from the company he was working at. Grunnings it was called. The world was a defiled place that craved justice, but what type of justice? The type of justice that had taken over Japan and nearly America a little more than ten years prior? No, that was wrong. Killing in itself was wrong. But there was a side of him, a side that had a voice that didn't hold a single likeness to his own that told him it was right. Could be, yes.

Harry had trusted the authorities not to be completely useless. But most of the time they were. He also had to agree with that; an honest hard working person who worked for justice in bliss of innocence would most probably end badly. Such a person was an easy prey-for anyone.

The world was like a chess board, sacrifices needed to be made and one mistake could cost you your life.

At seven years old he had contacted the police to make a formal report of his relatives' behavior towards him. The person in question had told him that little kids should know their place or he could go shove it. Yes, a _very_ judicious way to express himself. Apparently they lacked education and ethic too.

He heavily sighted, it all depended on a person's morals after all. And that could for some be easily changed and for others one viewpoint was enough for life. Ah, life was- at the moment- utterly and completely boring.

His dwelling was interrupted by one of the shrillest voices ever to be heard by human kind.

"Get to work, you lazy boy!" he sighted, back to the hell called reality.

.-.

"I want to go to the human world. I'm sick of this boring world. I heard the human world is interesting." A young shinigami said. A new shinigami. One which face had still to lose its humanity. This world was already boring for the young one. He had still not become accustomed to an immortality of boredom. The poor, poor thing. Those first years were always the worst. Ryuk was somewhat happy that he could see the human face before it started to crumble, it brought back many memories. How sad that the young ones' memories had been wiped at his death.

"You were not a God. You were just.." Ryuk looked up to find the other nowhere to be seen.

"It's boring; with boring people doing boring things..But the man who tried to change the world was interesting." He had been indeed; maybe he still could do something remarkable. Something to make his boredom go away. Even if just for awhile. Not that it mattered much; after all they had both ceased their boredoms while **he **had still been alive. It had been fun.

"Gone already?" Ryuk chuckled lightly under his breath. The story must've made an impression. Of course it should have. After all. It was **his** story

"Anyway. I'm bored now. I'll tell you about it. To pay you back for the unpalatable apple. That's right, this is a story about a man who tried to change the world and become a god."

"You should go take a look. Someone might pick up the notebook if you're lucky. And you get to see something you won't forget for the rest of your life. Isn't that right?" He spoke to himself, his long-gone companion not there anymore. Not that it mattered; they'd already had their fun. Not that the other remembered though.

"Light"

.-.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Tell me what you think ;)**

**.-.**

**Note:**

"past/flashbacks" whatever you want to call it


	2. Objects from the sky

**I have one question!**

**What house would L be sorted in? **

**Not Gryffindor, I don't think he's goody-two-shoes or very loyal-so not Hufflepuff…Either Ravenclaw or Slytherin then? Which one!**

**What house would ****'L' be sorted in? **

2. Objects from the sky

.-.

Harry stared intensely at _it _and its eyes bore just as deeply into his own. It had to be a trick of some kind but seeing as there were no speakers around it he continued to take in the snake. Maybe his boredom had driven him to delusions; after all, the life he was currently living was-in his perspective-severely lacking.

He had always labeled himself as sane but now out of reason he had started to doubt that fact.

'_Unreasonable things happened around me all the time. As a six year old it had been quite hard for me to get to a library in London but with one wish I had found myself there. Get__ting to read whatever I wanted. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon often complained about my hair, said I looked like a girl with it so long. But it made me comfortable and when my aunt shaved my head the hair had grown right back out. That was not normal even if I had a fast hair growth. Those things were facts and not lack of memories or delusions. I was sure: those were facts'_

Harry was not stupid; he knew his beloved relatives were hiding more than one thing from him. They had after all never told him an accurate reason for the hate they bestowed upon him and lied about his parents' death. As a child he had learned to act completely impassive, almost mask his presence. Usually he never spent his days with the Dursleys, he sneaked or more like 'popped' to the library down town. He hadn't found it important at that moment but as his eyes were locked with the boas, he knew he should find out their little secret rather soon.

He cocked his head to the right and watched as the snake mimicked his movement on the other side of the glass. It let out a hissing that could be mistaken for chuckling. If this-weren't for the fact that it was indeed a snake-he'd bet it was mocking him. From the little he knew about snakes' intelligence it was said that they were not the brightest but still learned things rather swiftly.

"Maybe I'm lacking too much sleep" he muttered and indeed, he could probably get the sentence 'insomniac' if he ever went to a hospital.

It was eyeing him speculatively and he realized how sick it must look; a boy close to eleven having a staring contest with a snake. Not that it mattered-to him that is. But his aunt..or his uncle for the matter would throw a tantrum. They always reacted so strongly to unusual thing. That's why there was a joy in provoking them, like this morning. When he informed them about his dream and how it circulated around flying motorcycles'. It had been _just _a dream after all.

"§I ssssleep all day§" He hadn't eaten anything weird during the last twenty four hours, as usual he had only gotten about three hours sleep but could that really cause delusions this severe?

Maybe he was dreaming. Harry pinched his arm just to check, apparently he wasn't sleeping. This only led to one conclusion…

"DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND SEE WHAT THIS SNAKE IS DOING!" Pears, Harry had always disliked the kid. But really, did he have to scream that load? Harry side stepped as his huge cousin came running with an attempt to shove him to the ground. As his cousin stumbled on his own feet and started glaring at Harry he took this as a sign to leave. He did not want to lose himself in a deluded world anymore.

.-.

Harry rubbed his eyes and sleepily picked open the lock on the door to his cupboard. He brushed the messy bangs out of his face and stretched his stiff muscles. Sighing, he made his way in to the kitchen and took out one of the mountain of chocolate puddings. He sat himself crouched in one of the arm chairs in the living room, feet on the petal-pink seat. He preferred sitting like this and walking with his back slightly bent. It called out bad posture, but he could care less. Even though he was thin he was rather lithe and flexible. And fast, really fast.

When he had been younger, his cousin-Dudley-had found a pleasure in beating those smaller than him. Probably attempting to gain respect of some kind, or maybe it was a compensation for the lacking of intelligence. Anyway, Harry had learned to protect himself. Once when he had let his anger take over he had kicked Dudley unconscious. That was not the better option. He had to deal with those infuriating parents of his cousin, running on the other hand…

It was pure survival, he hated it, he hated running from his opponent. It ashamed him.

Being done with his chocolate pudding Harry went out in the chilly July morning. Coughing and rubbing his arms to get up the warmth he started to stroll down the street. Wearing neither shoes nor jacket. Then he saw it, something flickering in the sky. His steps halted stop and he blinked trying to get a better sight of it. It was moving and it was not a plane. It was smaller, much smaller and it was coming towards him. Wings, feather, glaring beady eyes- an owl. It landed not far from him and held out a leg. Not only that, but something was tied to the leg. A letter. Was he hallucinating again?

_**Mr H. Potter **_

_**Cupboard under the stairs**_

_**Privet Drive 4**_

_**Little Whinging**_

_**Surrey**_

The letter was rather heavy and the way the sender seemed to know exactly were he slept made him dread for shopped off fingers and death threats. Not that there were a reason for someone wanting to threat him, maybe this was something about blackmail? Even so, they wouldn't get anywhere-he could care less what people thought of his sleeping place. Either way, he was quite certain that no one had placed surveillance cameras inside the house so he didn't bother go back and check. He would-on the other hand-keep an eye after intruders. But since he could be labeled an insomniac he thought it didn't matter much.

Harry eyed it with a mixture of distaste and commendatory and no small amount of revulsion. It was written with a yellow-like pargament in emerald green ink. An emblem was represented on the front of the letter next to a red wax seal. It had a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake that surrounded a squiggly large '_**H**_'. It looked old, like from one of those older families that were still sitting on their money from hundreds of years back. _'Here goes' _and he opened the letter.

.-.

_**Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall**_

_**I accept the invitation to Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. I am sure it will be a pleasure to attend such a school. But since I am unfamiliar with the magical world and also where I would buy the books and equipment suggested I request a detailed map and description of how to get there. If by some reason you find it better to send an escort or whatnot, I can only-once again-request for someone that will not draw too much attention. My relatives are a little jumpy when we come to the subject of unnatural units. **_

_**Yours**_

_**Harry Potter**_

He tied his acceptance to the stoic looking owls willing leg. Magic huh? One of the least things he would have suspected. He had tried to convince himself it was just delusions when ever things happened. But that was only because he did not have any facts of what it could have been. After all, Harry did not like to judge without proof but when he did he was mostly right. Now, he knew that there was something and the only reason could be this..this, magic.

The letter did not give an answer accurate enough, but it would do for now. All the things occurring, had, after all not been a coincidence. This letter was too well written to be a fake.

This made him think about the massacre in Japan and throughout the whole world ten years prior. People, mainly criminals, dropping dead in heart attacks and whatnot. Could this have been because of magic? But since he didn't yet know anything about magic he could not say. The possibility was enormous though, what other reason could there be? About a year ago; this case had picked up Harry's interest. He had hacked in to a database with classified information on the case. Thank god that he had been taking different language courses, because most of the information was on Japanese.

The page had stated that it had been a person killing all these people. A person using the world's most dangerous weapon. The Japanese had named him 'Kira' and some had worshiped him as a god. His actions throughout the years he had committed thousands of murders had looked like he aspired to be some sort of god-like figure. Not only had he killed criminals but those who opposed him too, this little piece of information had taken months of digging to get hold of. When they say classified they really mean that: classified. Kira needed a face and a name in order to commit murder and all killings had stopped ten years ago. Someone had caught him, they must have. Because this Kira person had been driven by a very idealistic notion of justice and would not have stopped otherwise.

When he got to the magical world he would do some digging…As he sent the owl away with his letter to 'Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry' he saw something black falling. Maybe an owl dropped something? He made his way over and picked it up where it had fallen.

_**Death Note**_

'_A joke? Or another mystery? I'll take you on'_

_.-._

**Thank you for reading!**

**Leave a comment if you want..**

**This chapter was more of his thoughts and things like that than, well, actio****n.**


	3. Poor amusement

**Reminding you all that disclaimer****s and those things are in chapter one. **

3. Poor amusement

.-.

_**Death **__**Note**_

_**How**__** to use it**_

_**The human whose name is written in this note shall die.**_

_**This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected. **_

_**If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen. **_

_**If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack. **_

_**After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds. **_

Harry sighed, how had his life become so complicated all of sudden? Ah, well. At least it kept him preoccupied. But no longer could he assume that these things were pranks or someone's sick sense of a joke. Not to mention that it was too informative to be a joke. The contents of this so called death note were more than frightening. This meant killing from a distance, heart attacks... Heart attack, killing from a distance, only needing a name and a face.. Ha! Finally, finally he had found the source to the massacre of so many criminals ten years ago. A death note! Kira used a _death note_. And for what propose? What had he tried to achieve in the long run? A new world? A world where everyone would be living in fear?

He would have to hide the notebook well; whoever got their hand on it might feel a temptation to use it. Humans were like that, where people gathered hate would be born and if you added a weapon like this.. It'd be a war.

Thank god he was not some crazed person lusting for revenge. Revenge, no he would never kill for revenge. He would especially not kill with a notebook-if it was for revenge, that is. If he wanted revenge then he would want the person in question to know that he had gotten his revenge. But still, killing was the last resource. It was cowardly to kill; as if you couldn't live in a world where the other person lived. As if you could not handle your emotions.

Harry kept telling himself all this, but his hand was itching to grab a pen and write the name of his relatives. But he better not write names of people close to him. That would draw suspicions. Especially with the magical society. But he wouldn't kill them. At least not now.. What was he thinking? Was he seriously considering it?

He couldn't help feeling that itch. The police wouldn't help him, he had no money and for some strange reason he was sure that his relatives would drag him home if they found him running away. If he couldn't get any help in the magical world he might just use.._'Don't even consider it, murder is still murder. No matter what. Not to mention that this object probably have some kind of prize to be paid if being used. Nothing in this world is free.'_

Eyes narrowed and he skimmed through the rules once again _'It's not worth it' _Harry tried to convince himself.

.-.

Harry sat waiting in the café, ignoring the sideway glances he received as he sat crouched in one of their cozy armchairs. He bit absentmindedly on his teaspoon while he sweetened his tea with too many sugar cubes. The café was filled with couples in their early twenties and some older teenagers. It lacked oxygen and the air was a misty pinkish color. The heat and the strong scent of perfumes made his head spin slightly. A slow classic melody played in the background and he had taken to drum his fingers on the table keeping the tact of the music. Why where they suppose to meet in such a place?

The ordered cake arrived not soon after and he happily dug in. Harry rather liked sweets.

Dudley had a tendency to drop his money and Harry had a tendency to pick them up. It was not stealing-as kindergarten kids' said-finders keep 'em.

Either way, it was not like they could blame him. The Dursleys did get compensation for taking care of him, but he had never seen any of that money being spent on him. He disgusted their injustice.

So what if Dudley's allowance disappeared from time to time? They would blame it on him even if he hadn't done anything. There-the injustice again.

Harry balanced a small tower of chocolate cake on a spoon towards his mouth. Just as he was about to lick the strawberry on the top someone cleared their throat, making his cake fall into a mushy heap on his ascetic.

Harry looked up, glaring slightly at the man standing there. The man in question looked out of place in the cozy little café. His dark clothed shoulders were stiff with uncomfort, the skin was pale almost shifting into a sickly yellow and a somewhat crooked nose. Black shoulder length hair and outstandingly just as black eyes. There seemed to be no pupil, just black. The skin under the eyes shifted in violet, indicating lack of sleep. Nothing as severe as the term insomniac but enough to explain the sour look on his face.

"Harry Potter?" So it was the wizard sent to meet him. Harry cocked his head to the left as he saw the uncertainty on the wizard's face.

"That's right, and you must be a professor. Mr...?" Swirling his tongue around the teaspoon Harry watched as the wizard hesitantly took a seat looking rather nauseous.

"Snape, Severus Snape." Strange name, Latin. If he recalled right it meant..Stern. _'Maybe it fits him' _Harry mused as he observed the man.

"So, Severus – may I call you Severus? Where exactly is this Diagon Alley?" He had returned o his tea, stirring his spoon through the honey colored liquid. Putting the spoon to his mouth and groaned silently, that divine taste caressing his tongue...

"No, you may not!" Harry looked up and raised an eyebrow at the man's outburst, uptight much? Seemed like he had gotten over what ever surprise had been in for him. What could the reason for that reaction though? He was sure it was not nervousness, otherwise that would have been easily explainable. Hm..

"We're leaving as soon as you have finished your tea!" A slight smirk was playing on Harry's lips. The name really did fit the man.

"Then, Severus" Deciding he would use the wizard's name whether he liked it or not. Maybe he was just trying to get more amusing reactions from Mr. Severus Snape. Smiling inwardly, Harry continued:

"Tell me about yourself"

.-.

The first sight of Diagon Alley he connected with the word 'disappointment' easily. It was constrainedly clichéd. He put his hands in his jeans pockets and walked with the short-tempered man beside him through the alley. Pointy hats, cloaks, cauldrons, pargament, quills, wands and broomsticks, _flying _broomsticks. Cliché. Something out of a Disney movie. Harry sighed.

Either way, he would need to read up on their history, considering the way things went through here they did not use any technology. How do they communicate he had asked Severus. Through birds, _birds_. What if something were urgent? No, still through birds.

They continued to walk until they came to a majestic white marble building that reminded him strangely of Coliseum. Not that he had ever been there, but he had researched old Rome. Maybe the wizarding parts would be interesting as well..

.-.

**Thanks for reading!**

**Rather short chapter.**

**Leave a comment **

**.-.**

**I'm still asking: ****What house would L be sorted in?**


	4. Analysis

**Sorry about the lateness, I have two essays to write that have to be done in a little less than one hour and forty-five minutes. ****Daaaamn.**

**I'm so skipping the last lesson tomorrow. Not interesting, sorry.**

**Here goes nothing..**

4. Analysis

.-.

Harry lounged in another café, this one not being located in the 'muggle' world. He subtly compared the differences between the two separated societies.

Severus had just revealed something huge and he was still in for the aftereffect. Even though the older wizard had scowled while telling the story of 'the-boy-who-lived' and 'you-know-who', sarcasm dripping in the words 'savior' and 'boy-wonder'. Which also quite stated how immature the wizarding world actually was when it came to public displays. The man had in the beginning outright refused to tell him the name of the so called 'Dark lord'. The whole story intrigued him, but for the most part it missed out on logic and was quite unbelievable. But as a new addition to this community he should know the basic history. Yes, apparently his name covered pages in history books too, lovely.

The Dark lord called himself Lord Voldemort - flight of death, those French lessons were finally paying off. But no sane human being-wizard or not-would name their child Voldemort, so it must be an alias. Another mystery? He should make a check list, starting with 'find out the real name of Lord Voldemort Aka the Dark lord, you-know-who etc.'

From the little he'd heard he seemed more power hungry than actually going through with whatever his goals were. Putting his weird menacing dreams before the goals of his version of the magical society.

Harry briefly wondered what would win; a wizard or a muggle with a gun. Maybe it was all about reflexes, he was not sure since he hadn't seen magic work in reality. Buying his wand had been the first step- even though old Mr. Ollivander needed to make a point that the brotherwand to his wand had given him the scar on his forehead.

Severus had told him the basics of wizard racism, which all pointed at how much magical blood you carried. Both Harry and Severus were halfbloods. Severus father had been a muggle while Harry's mother had been a muggleborn. Someone born magical but still with muggle parents, there were also people called squibs- they were the opposites of muggleborns.

It was possible that Voldemort-since he apparently was the last one of a powerful and influenced pureblood line –had made use of his bloodstatus in order to gain allies, slaves or whatever he called his 'Deatheaters'. Most prized vivid imagination for titles and names goes to the man too.

Warily Harry questioned the mysterious deaths on muggle criminals ten years ago, Severus had no idea, at that time the wizarding world had been at war because of differences in opinions of blood. Harry had made up his mind, he would not tell a soul about the existence of the death note. In the wrong hands, anyone could be dead and since his name was apparently known far and wide, he wouldn't like someone trying to kill him with it.

Some respected-living-individuals he felt drawn to, even though never met in person. One in particular, the slight suspicion had risen and he wanted to know more.

.-.

The suspicion all started with Severus pulling out a key to his vault. It was now stated that he had a vault, apparently his father had been old money and from one of the oldest and richest pureblood families.

The goblin-yes, goblin- he had debated between leprechaun, dwarf and gnome before being told differently. He had never really been into fantasy creatures. Just that now, they weren't fantasy at all.

It had long pointy ears and a nose as long as its hands, crooked right on the middle. Griphook as the goblin was called- had just as all the other goblins; a wrinkled face and a very small amount of grayish hair. Practically bald, they reached his hip in height, which really indicated something.

Griphook took the key just as Harry snapped back to reality. Why did Severus have a key to his vault? Suspicious, yes, but not of Severus himself.

He bit his thumb nail, hard.

"Why is it that you have my key Severus?" Not taking his eyes of the goblin-Griphook-they had been challenging stares for awhile now. Griphook would eventually avert his gaze and he would win the never outspoken glaring-battle. As he kept on, the disgust on Griphook's face faded slightly. The spite in its beady eyes disappeared little by little every moment that went by. Something akin to a smirk replaced the displeasure.

"Albus gave it to me for the trip" Harry's mind flashed, Albus…'_Headmaster; Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)'_ His name had been mentioned in the letter carrying his invitation to Hogwarts. Many titles for someone just being a headmaster…

"Why?"

"He is your magical guardian" Harry didn't inquire to know more, even if he should. He didn't want to pretend knowing any unknown society's laws. Though, he was sure the Dursleys were his official guardians. This situation didn't look all too good but he would not draw any conclusions when he'd never even met the man. That could wait until later.

Griphook jumped down beside his desk and started strolling over to some odd looking carts. Severus followed the goblin. Sighing, Harry went after them.

.-.

The events had continued from then, the magical world was beyond strange. They had something similar to a rollercoaster ride inside a bank. Sure, it was underground and all. But really- a rollercoaster ride? It was not amusing in the slightest- Harry, himself, had been panting and trying to keep his stomach in check. He congratulated himself seeing as the other occupants did not detect his painful state thanks to concealing his emotions and bodily functions from showing on his face. Even if his situation had been dire.

That was something he had learnt early; _'keep your weaknesses from showing'._ People liked finding weaknesses in others. So did him, unconsciously.

His father had been old money, from a noble pureblood family but somehow he'd decided not to use any of his family's money; wanting to make it by himself, very admirable and very idiotic in Harry's point of view. It would be enjoyable though, Harry rather liked spending money. On cakes, sweets, coffee or other caffeine related drinks. Sure, it was not usual for an eleven year old boy to like coffee, to be fair he used at least eight sugar cubes before satisfied.

.-.

Severus had excused himself and left half-hour ago, having to do some business at Gringotts. He had tried to reassure the man that he did not need an escort home, but the man had insisted. So they had agreed to meet up later. There was something intriguing about Severus Snape, something like a dark brooding cloud right above his head. When they had first met earlier that day he had almost seemed too stunned to speak, as if he was expecting something else, something less. Severus had been set to despise him, he could understand as much. The reason for that was either hate for children in general or hate for his diseased parents.

But throughout the day he had made the man give him something similar to respect. Mostly Harry only found the insults and the scowling amusing as the day went by and when Severus understood that, he dropped it a little. Not all, since it seemed to be a huge part of his personality.

At his 'interrogation' of the man Severus had told him taught in potions, though poison would fit the man better.

Severus was many things; a man with goals and dreams that had been broken. Self hate seemed to reek from the man's very being and Harry wondered how the man had come to this state. Had no one tried to make him feel better? He would have believed the man was self inflicting pain on himself if it weren't for the pride and sense of strength the man had.

Severus was working for Albus Dumbledore, but somehow there was something when he talked about Voldemort that set Harry's senses and brain alert. There was no spite and no hatred. Precisely the same way he talked about Dumbledore who was supposed to be some intelligent, kind and goodhearted man.

Now Harry wondered who was this man's true master?

.-.

Two eye-catching people had sat down at the table next to his. What really caught his attention was that they were talking, about _him. _Both had strikingly shock-orange hair; a chubby woman in her late thirties and a girl not much younger than himself.

"Mommy" the girl started, something dominant and winy about the voice made Harry start shuddering in disgust. "Harry Potter is starting Hogwarts this year, right?" She gave the woman-her mother- a secret little smile. So he really was some type of celebrity, at least they hadn't found his address yet. The Dursleys would not appreciate it if they did. Harry didn't show any sign of listening in but his attention was solely on their conversation.

"Yes Darling, the poor boy starts this year" Poor? Ah, probably indicating the loss of his parents. Not that he ever knew them, so there was no loss.

"Mommy, is he going to marry me?" This girl was definitely not a five year old so she could not get away with saying something so absurd. He sighed, what had this woman taught her child? Couldn't be anything good..

"Mommy, what does Harry Potter look like?" If these stalkers knew even that, he'd seriously consider his 'moving-out-from-the-Dursleys' plan to speed up a bit.

"Gin, I don't really know. But there's always the scar" If she knew even that it meant that he had more stalkers or/and crazed fans, oh gods.

"His lightning bolt scar that he got when he defeated you-know-who?" He would not believe that he had defeated one of the most powerful wizards their time as some drooling, jibbering one year old. There has to be something more behind it.

"He's suppose to look exactly like his father; James was so handsome Gin, I used to have a crush on him" she sighed dreamingly and ran her tubby fingers through her short curly orange hair. "But he only had eyes for Lily, he's suppose to have her jade eyes" Was it only Harry or did she sound cranky while mentioning his mother? He crushed the cookie in his hand and put a piece to his mouth. It taste sand, too dry.

"What did he look like? James Potter I mean?"

"James Potter was such a beauty, such a handsome face. Such a beauty.. Muscular jaw slightly angular shape of his face. He wore round glazes. Hazel brown eyes and unruly locks of raven hair. His chest was muscular and he was so..soo..tall and dark and handsome. Like a poster person on witch-weekly" blushing, glazed over eyes. At least she weren't drooling, yet.

From that description of his father he could say he looked nothing like the man. Harry was rather small, about the same size as a girl his age. His hair was a long ink black mess that mussed itself on the right side of his face, making a side bang that sometimes covered his right eye. He had a feminine face shape with a small, straight nose. His eyes were huge but people thought they looked like intense dark pools. Or that was what some girls crushing on him had told him. Sometimes they shifted in a brilliant green. Dark, dark emerald. He liked his hair long, slightly brushing his shoulders. Harry was often mixed up for a girl, but he was definitely male.

He did not like these two redheads-even as fans. Which he did not want either way.

.-.

**Thanks for reading, leave a review with your criticism.**

**Question!:**

**Should this be a Light/Harry slash?**


	5. Selfdefense

**I'm sorry that the updates aren't more frequently, but right now I have lots of things going on. Both in school and in my personal life. Anyway… I'm taking a little break from writing in 'possession and love' at the moment, but I'll definitely continue writing the story. Just not now.**

**Anyway I've decided that this shall be slash. But considering Harry's age it will take some time until that will happen. A looong while. Cuz I'm not into Harry in a relationship at the age of eleven, that'd be just wrong. Especially for this story.**

5. Self-defense

.-.

It was midnight; the streetlights flicked and gave of a quiet buzz; the heat from earlier had become a comforting chilly breeze that caressed the skin. It was these moments that made it easy for him to think. A bag pack was slung over one of Harry's shoulder blades as he walked aimlessly down the street. Normally it would be odd to see an eleven year old out at this time. But everyone knew that Harry Potter was supposed to be a little... Different.

He sighed and sat down at the lonely roadside, it was truly a bliss just sitting and feeling. After a moment or two Harry opened his bag, shuffling things around until he pulled out a black note book.

How he considered it-they were truly worthless. But the prize to pay for such actions could be more than accounted for. No, he could not. At least not at the moment. He closed his eyes, almost drifting off while using his bag as a pillow until he heard a scream. A shrill high pitched panic laced scream from somewhere nearby. Harry was on his feet before his brain had time to process the events.

It was everywhere; the corner of the parking lot was stained, no painted, red. Blood. The body of a young woman, her stomach ripped open revealing too much of her guts. It looked almost animalistic-what had been done to her. Strawberry blonde straws of hair had been ripped and laid further away from her body, someone must have yanked it. Hard.

Then there was the most disturbing thing he'd ever seen, a man. Oh, not just any man but a man with the most pleased and sadistic grin that adorned his features that Harry had ever seen. The real deal was greatly more horrifying than a scene from some crime-psychological drama show. The man was tall and was all muscle considering his broad chest.

While standing there - too stunned to move - the man noticed him. The expression changed drastically to predatory and a curved blade flashed as the man stalked forwards.

Harry was no athlete, he was fast, yes, but when you have just witnessed some crazed looking man standing in the entrails of a blonde woman you might get badly responsive. A knife was pressed at his throat, drawing a thin line of blood. The man was on top of him, legs straddling Harry and a malicious smirk adorned his features.

"What do we have here?" The man's breath smelled of rancid and smoke as he was way too close for Harry's liking. His elbows and palms had been severely scraped as the man had pounced on him. _'Make the best out of the situation' _Harry's mind reeled.

"What's your name little pretty?" _'Time to play'_

"You should.. introduce yourself first" he croaked, god, this would not be a winning game with either scenario. The man really was too close. Not to mention a murderer but Harry's mind picked up on the term pedophilia. Which he probably was.

"Ah, feisty little thing" A dark chuckle escaped the man's chapped, clammy looking lips "I'm José Mars, sweetie. Now.. Let's move somewhere else" He was yanked up by the collar and later carried in a bridal style towards a black expensive looking Volvo. The man –José –was scarily gentle with him and Harry anticipated that if he would try to struggle, his behavior would abruptly change. The motor was turned on, the smell of gasoline and smoke made his nose twitch. His heartbeat was reeling; he could pound in his ears. The adrenaline was making him aware; it was only a matter of seconds now.

…4…3...2…1…

The man clutched the front of his flannel shirt and after an agonize groan he fell lifeless against the steering wheel. Thank god for pedophilic perverted men, he would've been dead if the José had decided to kill him there. Using his own blood as writing supply was not easy to accomplish, especially if you have to be discrete about it when José-the madman- is out for your blood. Or other nameless horrible things. The death note laid in his lap, a darkening red sloppy text covered one of the pages: José Mars.

Harry checked his wristwatch, he needed to pack. The Hogwarts express was leaving in only ten hours. But first… What to do with the bodies?

.-.

The first spell Harry cast with his wand was an incedio. Crimson flames had burned the bodies to crisp, until they were not recognizable as corpses anymore. It was wile and the smell had been unbearable. But he did not want to have any relation towards two dead muggles. It would not look good on his record. Luckily, Harry was under the age of eleven he could still cast magic undetected. But next summer he wouldn't be able to. Even though there must be some way around that law…

Harry sat in the backseat of uncle Vernon's car, it had been easy to convince(threat) the man to drive him to King's Cross. Harry hadn't bought an animal, apparently you could use the school owls and Harry had no use for a rat or a toad. Those animals disgusted Harry to no end, why did wizards have those type of pets?

He was nervous, not because he was starting Hogwarts or whatnot. But because he had used the Death Note and the consequences would most likely be bestowed upon him. Harry flexed his fingers and rubbed his forehead. This did not bid well. A feeling of heaviness resided in his stomach and he was fidgeting frequently. Damn that murderer for making him write the name in self-defense. Yes, self-defense. Now there was no going back, he had written a name and now he could write one again. The consequences would still find him because of that one name… Stupid, stupid. Why had he panicked and not thought through the situation. _'Because a murderer seemed to take a liking to me, idiot'_.

Deciding not to pounder on it he stepped out of the car and strolled down the platform between nine and ten. His investment in a shrinking trunk had really been a good choice_. _Now he didn't have to drag some heavy cart after him. Thank god. When he arrived at the supposed barrier he saw most peculiar thing - those redheads again. But this time, there were seven of them. Hopefully all of those males would not be like the females in the family. As Harry observed the chubby woman and her daughter he made a mental vow to keep away from them. The identically idiotic twins didn't seem too greatly influenced by the woman though.

When the redheads had stopped their bantering and stepped through the barrier he had followed as a shadow.

.-.

The ride to Hogwarts was uneventful. Apparently he had already been labeled as strange. That though suited him just fine. Harry didn't strive for attention or acceptance. He had yet to find his goal, in the meantime-

The unnaturally large savage called out for the first years and they gathered around him. The man must have been twice the size of a human being. One huge arm pointed in the direction of a magnificent _dark _outline of a castle. It was huge.

-he would like to find out more about the world that from now on would become his home.

**.-.**

**Thanks for reading, did you like it? **

**Review your opinion.**

**.-.**

**Should this be a**

**Voldemort/Harry**

**or**

**Light/Harry?**

**.-.**


	6. Meetings

**Thank you all for the comments!**

**I'm going to clear something up here, when I asked what house L would be sorted in it was just a speculation- a rhetorical question. As in ****If**** he was still alive. You see- I was considering making Harry L's reincarnation, but now I'm not so sure. Because I don't want him to have L's exact personality.**

**So L is very much dead in my story.**

6. Meetings

.-.

The scene played through in his mind over and over again; the murderer clutching his heart, falling lifeless against the steering wheel and the smell of burnt flesh. He had caused it, sentenced a man to his death. However he saw it – it was murder.

These thoughts had flooded over, his eyes were unfocused and he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. It felt as if he wasn't really there, just a shadow seeing every detail of the hall's surroundings.

His eyes flicked towards the enchanted ceiling as his name was called. Slowly, with eyes still on the floating candles hovering above him, he went up the little podium. So this was magic, floating candles that did not drip stearic in people's hair. The ceiling was enchanted to look like the night sky, what about when it rained? Would they get drenched? Magic really was a wondrous thing.

The stern looking woman that had led them into the hall had the most peculiar reaction to his presence. Her eyed dilated and her mouth formed an 'o'. The rest of the hall broke down in whispers which he ignored. Whatever they wanted to say it held no importance to Harry. Considering his fame it was probably about how _cute _and _girlish _he looked in reality. Not a hero with a sword strapped on his back.

Without particular care of his surroundings, he sat down on the stool in front of the crowd. It must be rather discouraging to sit here, in front of so many when they expected you to be somewhere special. Like some pureblood families seemed to favor one special house.

Hadn't their parents told them it was bad manners to whisper? Or was he not counted in on the terms 'a person, human, living being'? Even Harry- who had grown up without parents knew basic manners- though, he didn't like using them.

He sat upright wishing he could just get it over with, the five hundred occupants in the hall was eyeing his every move. Therefore, he guarded himself. There must be people out for his blood already, enemies he didn't even know the name of. How he wished he could just sink down and slouch, it would be much more comfortable.

A hat sunk down over his eyes and he pulled its tip so it would rest against his forehead. This thing would flatten his hair, the thought connected with a blond boy in his year that had one of the worst back-slicks Harry'd ever seen. You could see him seething while it had remained on his head for a matter of seconds.

"_Interesting, interesting.."_ The old patchy hat told him mentally. Harry had already gotten over his surprise when he had heard it sing earlier in the hall. After all, it was not every day that you got to hear your clothes sing.

"_Plenty of courage, strong sense of justice.. Oh! Great mind I see.. Creativity, wit but also cunning and ambition.."_ It paused as if it needed to take a breath, but considering that it was a hat that could not be.

"_You would be a great leader if you only gave it a chance.. Ravenclaw wouldn't spoil your intelligence. But you would do best in…"_

"SLYTHERIN!"

The hall seemed to be in a state of shock; Harry removed the hat placed on his head and took a glace up to the head table. Dumbledore smiled vaguely back at him, trying to cover up the frown on his face. Severus didn't look surprised at all; behind that mask of indifference he looked rather smug. So the man liked him after all..

Harry strolled of to the Slytherin table just as chaos broke lose.

.-.

Harry walked down to the common room, leaving the dormitories behind him. He had wrapped himself securely in an emerald colored blanket; it was quite chilly while in the dungeons. Strangely it wasn't as empty as he had thought- of course _he _would be sneaking around trying to catch students at this time of night. The man really did not have any sex life.

"Severus" Harry greeted, successfully making the man jump as he was already seated in the armchair near the fireplace. His ink black eyes found Harry's and he couldn't help smiling back at the calculating man.

"Potter, you should be in bed!" He was convinced that as long as Severus was around; Harry's amusement would never cease. Funny, as they'd only known each other for less than a day.

"Drop the formalities or I'll start making cute little nicknames for you" Harry grinned, it was one pathetic excuse for a threat but he couldn't help snickering at the man's expression. How it changed when he realized Harry was only messing with him.

"I could give you detention for that, Potter" His last name seemed to be cursed as much as he spit it out. Definitely knew his parents then..

"Will you? I would just love to spend more time with you Sevvie" That's when Harry realized that Severus actually was quite easily aggravated. Couldn't even take some joking around.

'_Time to go to bed' _he moved towards the staircase back to the dorms avoiding being hit by red and purple curses sent his way. Knowing the impact would not end pretty for either of them.

Harry didn't really feel a need to go back there, he wouldn't be able to sleep there anyway. In the company of so many others, vulnerable while asleep. Also, there was the fact that the troll look-alikes; Crabbe and Goyle snores could make mountains move. They were some type of bodyguards for a spoiled blond boy called Draco Malfoy. Without those two the confidence of the blond would fade and he would be nothing more than a rich little boy with a nasty personality.

Malfoy was truly annoying; he had practically claimed Harry's attention as a property. That was something needing to be fixed tomorrow.

Earlier that evening the hall had inquired a re-sorting-for him while the rest were spouting nonsense as a 'new' dark lord had been born. Some had stood up, drawn their wands and started yelling curses. It was over extreme but considering that the whole wizarding world thought him some type of hero and all Slytherins evil there was no surprise.

The teachers had broken them up and given those who had just thought of uttering a curse two weeks of full detention. It was then Harry understood. His opinion, where he stood, was political and critical for many in the wizarding world.

There were two things that Harry could already say he liked about Hogwarts; magic and the desert they served. The food was rather nasty and filled with grease, not that he wasn't used to that at the Dursleys. Harry preferred light food with loads of fast calories.

As he moved upwards the stairs, yawning and stumbling still wrapped in the blanket he saw a thing. It was blocking the staircase and stood there smiling menacingly at him. It was not a ghost neither was it a poltergeist. The auburn eyes gleamed menacingly at him, dark ash-blonde hair around a foreign face, tall height, muscular shoulders and arms. The way he stood portrayed a muggle god of some kind. But the thing that affected Harry the hardest was the lack of presence. No trace of magic just a cold shivering that etched up his sides.

The man, the thing, hovered above the ground. Black wings flapped lightly, the wings had no feathers and looked like they were made of some type of clay.

This didn't feel normal, not that Harry had seen anything normal the past twenty-four hours. But this, he was sure that this _thing _wasn't so normal in the magical world either. It reeked of death.

"Harry Potter" the husky voice of the creature greeted him.

.-.

**So, what did you think? Boring chapter?**

**.-.**

**Should I make Harry L's reincarnation? Noo..maybe..**

**.-.**


	7. First week

**Kind of boring chapter, therefore I wanted to get it over with fast. I was thinking of getting a tattoo/s, I love Christina Perri's tattoos. I also want a green-blueish snake. Why am I metioning things like this? Just forget it..**

**Thanks for your comments!**

7. First week

.-.

It knew his name, not that his name wasn't spoken as a blessing all around magical Europe.

"Yes, that's me" Harry spoke warily, for the first time feeling quite unsure of himself. Why had this creature sought him out? He swallowed, sharing calculating stares with the other. It looked human, but felt differently. Handsome inhuman features with a feel of death ominously hanging over its nonexistence presence.

"Why? Is there something you want? What are you?" The devious smirk made Harry uneasy, he fiddled under the gaze. Considering Harry never did so he could only compliment him.

"I am what you call a shinigami and you hold what used to be my notebook" Oh shit, consequences. What was a shinigami? It was Japanese for something.. But what?..

"So you came to take it back" Harry stated, staring back at the –shinigami?- while swallowing his fear. He wore a perfect mask of indifference and he knew by the look on the shinigami's face that he was intrigued by the change of atmosphere. Harry had after all known this would happen in the end.

"No, the ownership goes to you as you have written in it. The notebook is now yours." That devious smirk again. What did it want?

"Then what is it you want shinigami?" what was a shinigami anyway?

"I'm not going to do anything and call me Light"

.-.

Harry looked it up in the school library, shinigami meant death god or grim reaper in Japanese. That was the only thing he found though, death god's were fictional characters even in the wizarding world. That Light had found quite insulting.

The death god had taken it to follow him around since he was 'bored'. So both of them went down towards breakfast in the hall after their trip to the library early in the morning.

Harry sat down, stretched like a cat on the bench and looked around. Eggs, sausages, bacon, cheese, ham, thick compact white bread.. Oh there it was - a variation of sweet fruits and puddings. Thank god.

"You could have waited for us you know!" Harry's attention snapped towards Draco Malfoy standing with crossed arms and his two bodyguards on either side of him on the other side of the table. Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"And since when am I obliged to not do things without you Mr. Malfoy?" The blonde cringed at the use of last name and people looked interested between the two.

"It's not like we're married or something" Harry continued, then he gasped as if remembering something "If I'm correct we actually met for the first time yesterday" Two sixth years snickered at Malfoy's fuming expression. The blonde opened his mouth as if to say something and then closed it again. Going red in the face with embarrassment or maybe lack of air while trying to come up with a good comeback.

"You.." he stuttered "Who would want to be married to you!" Malfoy screamed across the hall and stormed off while those observing roared with laughter. Harry couldn't help shaking his head in disappointment. He had thought Malfoy would have had more brains than his two troll look-alike bodyguards. Obviously he was wrong.

Harry stared up at Light in thought. No one had reacted to the death god, which was odd. No strange stares or screams when seeing a flying inhuman creature following him. Light met his gaze and grinned.

"They can't see me, so you better not talk to me if you don't want to look crazy" He went back to his vanilla pudding when Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott sat down beside and across of him.

They greeted him and then Severus started hand out schedules for the day. Today would be:

Transfiguration with Gryffindor,

History of magic with Ravenclaw,

Flying with Gryffindor,

Tuesday:

Charms with Gryffindor,

Potions with Gryffindor,

Wednesday:

Defense against the Dark Arts with Hufflepuff,

Herbology with Hufflepuff,

Thursday:

Potions with Gryffindor,

Charms with Gryffindor,

Astronomy with Ravenclaw,

Friday:

Transfiguration with Gryffindor,

Defense against the Dark arts with Hufflepuff.

There were a lot of lessons with the Gryffindors which was strange considering Harry had gotten the impression of that they hated each other. Dumbledore maybe wasn't that competent after all.

Transfiguration was an easy subject, at least for Harry. He looked around when having transfigured a match into a needle at the first try; others were growing red in the face with concentration. A bushy-haired Gryffindor was the second one who got it right and that was in the last five minutes of the class. She looked triumphant around the room but when her eyes fell on him and he only raised an eyebrow at her, she blushed and looked away.

"Stupid mudblood" Malfoy muttered staring down at his own unsuccessful attempt. Maybe the blonde was a little amusing after all.

Harry found himself disliking History of magic, professor Binns was truly an incompetent teacher. It was strange seeing as he hadn't even got fired after his own death. Didn't they have rules or someone capable who could fire the dead man? Couldn't they see he needed to rest in peace? The poor thing.

During lunch a couple of second years were giggling almost hysterically not far from Harry, Blaise and Theodore.

"What is that all about?" He asked, frowning as one of the boy's started blushing in an almost abnormal way. Blaise and Theodore exchanged a look before speaking at the same time.

"You" Apparently he had already gotten himself a fan club. It consisted mostly of students from first to third year, but there was still older students whispering behind his back. The group got together talking about how _cute _he was. Hopefully he wouldn't get violated when he went out after bed time.

.-.

The boy with the round face lifted from the ground, his expression panicked as he wasn't in control of his broom. He was high above ground now, going higher and higher, sideways, up and down. Everyone seemed to be staring at him; some scared for him other joyfully making fun of his 'stupidity'.

"Neville get down here this instant!" Madame Hooch screamed, Was she really the flying instructor? Couldn't she see that he wasn't in control of the broom? That he had no idea of how to fly?

Neville's broom took a drastic turn and he screeched as his body went straight into the wall of the castle. Harry knew he could help, somehow he knew. But he didn't, he wanted to value his life. Riding a broom trying to save a boy that was both taller and heavier than himself would not count as that. Harry knew he was being selfish.

"Why don't you help him?" Light's voice taunted him, the death god knew just as well as Harry that he wouldn't. Even if the boy did die it wouldn't be Harry's fault. That was absurd. It would on the other hand be Madame Hooch fault, seeing how she was very capable of saving the boy but still didn't mount her broom he would blame her.

His attention snapped back to Neville as the boy hit the ground with a crack, the first years stood paralyzed while staring at their fellow classmate. Malfoy's face was as pale as a sheet and no other Slytherin students seemed to have the urge to taunt the broken Gryffindor.

The boy was laying close to the caste wall. The broom had somehow gotten under him and pierced the boy's stomach. Blood sipped out of the stabbed stomach wound and more followed with Neville's labored breathing. Considering the angle of the right leg it was obviously broken. No one moved as Madame Hooch brought him to the hospital wing and as she dismissed the class.

Everyone seemed to be in a shocked state, all but Harry who had already seen worse.

.-.

Neville lived.

The first week ended faster than he thought possible. Harry found himself liking most of the subjects except for History of magic and Herbology, history of magic because of the incompetent teacher. Professor Binns was after all dead. Professor Sprout on the other hand was a wonderful teacher but Harry had no hidden love for playing around in dirty flower pots. Maybe his preschool teacher had been right when accusing him of being a clinical psychopath. That was a low blow towards someone just being a child.

Everything they learned seemed very easy for Harry and he had already finished most of the books he had in every subject. Therefore he went to explore the library with Blaise Zabini and Light. Not that he let Blaise know of Light. He wouldn't let anyone know, just as he wouldn't let them know of the death note. It was too risky. He borrowed more complicated books there. Harry wanted to know why the Dark Arts were banned. Were all of them bad? He would find out.

Draco Malfoy told him more about pureblood supremacy. Not that Harry asked but Malfoy talked more than enough to understand their culture. How purebloods were above mudbloods and how they were 'stealing' their magic. How could a child steal magic?

Theodore Nott and Harry found the secret passage to the kitchens were the houselves had practically thrown delicious pastries and whatnot at them. Harry took a liking to one of the houselves called Ribby who had become something of his personal sweets-bringer.

Light followed him around everywhere, seemingly just as interested as he was in the wizarding culture. People couldn't see Light; the death god had explained that he could only be seen by those who had touched the death note. Therefore they didn't do much talking, they both observed and sometimes Light would throw a witty comment about something he found peculiar interesting. They formed a strange bond of friendship.

.-.

**So, that was Harry's first week at Hogwarts.**

**.-.**

**I'm still wondering if this is supposed to be a LV/HP or a Light/HP, maybe I could do both… not at the same time that is…?**

**.-.**


	8. Gryffindor's loss

**Why anyone would like to comment my story is beyond me, but as usual I humbly thank you for the wondrous reviews!**

8. Gryffindor's loss

.-.

Malfoy was upset; he sat on his bed while browsing through his potions book in quite a violent way. Each page ripping a little from the force of the each turn. From time to time he sent glares Harry's way. This behavior had been going on for a week. Before that, when it started, it had been pathetic insults thrown Harry's way. However, Harry didn't much react to people openly displaying their opinions about him.

Today Malfoy was mad for a completely different reason. It still involved Harry though. He had heard Theodore mention that the blonde had sent a letter home about his… dislike for Harry. Also giving a very detailed explanation on how some treated him unfair just because 'Potter' was famous. Which was an outright lie, they treated him rather poorly because of the insults he spouted out; they were beyond infantile.

It was a common knowledge that in truth Malfoy wanted to be Harry's friend. Anyone could see that. But being given everything as a child had made it hard for the blonde to understand the concepts of the term friend. Maybe he'd come back to the blonde when he had passed the lesson.

Anyway, at the moment the blonde was fuming with repressed anger. Apparently Malfoy senior had told his son that he acted a way not worthy the Malfoy name. Which was rather confusing considering Lucius Malfoy was supposed to act the exact same way. This Harry found rather amusing.

What part of the wizarding society was actually the better one? The stuck up, arrogant purebloods that valued their own? or the jolly, carefree, annoying 'light' side?

During the first weeks Harry had gotten himself a stalker. A much hated one, thank you very much. In truth he had _several._ But those were more of the 'watching-from-a-distance-while-trying-to-sneak-undetected-after-but-not-succeding' types. But this kid, this annoying Gryffindor redhead wouldn't leave him alone. Spouting nonsense and his own opinions of Slytherins (apparently in the redhead's opinion; since Harry was the-boy-who-lived, he wasn't counted as a Slytherin), that consisted of the same speech Malfoy had given him but reversed.

Light had in the beginning found it amusing- seeing as Harry actually wanted to bang his head against the wall in a fit of annoyance- until he himself had even admitted one of his secrets with drawing out another death note. Since then no one had seen the youngest Weasley boy. Light was probably only trying out what he had learned, experimenting. Getting the boy killed by something magical that would make any trace of the body disappear. Well, at least Harry hoped so. When bodies started to go missing and then turning mystically up- he didn't want to have anything to do with it.

This time around Harry didn't have to remind himself that it wasn't his fault that the boy had –most likely-died. It wasn't like he could control the death god. Light did what he wanted, saying that he only stayed for his own amusement. Probably lied upright to Harry's face, _again._

Harry didn't trust Light. Not in the slightest. Their friendship was rather obscure. If you could call what they had friendship at all.

His classes were getting more boring by the minute; having read ahead did apparently matter for him when it came to practical in class. The teachers had started to watch him worriedly as if he was in some sort of depression or maybe they were just worried that he would also go missing.

Severus had even been nice to him and the potion master was the sort of person that would never openly share care for any being. But now he had acted like a worried mother, checking his temperature made him tea. The man had even checked his wrists for cuttings! Did he really seem that depressed? Harry admitted he was bored but that was practically it!

Maybe the man had personal experience? Well, he was a teacher after all and Harry was his responsibility as the head of Slytherin.

He had never had anyone care for him like that; it was quite flattering but rather annoying with the babying. Ah, well.. At least the man cared.

.-.

The youngest Weasley's disappearance had shaken up the castle. Harry noted the glances Severus had been giving professor Quirrell. Sure, the man was up to something with his fake stuttering and that he sometimes was gone during the meal-times. But considering Harry knew who had actually taken redhead's life, he thought Severus was just being paranoid.

Halloween or Samhain's night came quickly; the great hall was decorated with at least five enormous pumpkins on each table. Thousands of bats were watching them speculatively from the ceiling; from time to time they swooped down over the crowd of celebrating students. One of them entangled itself in a sixth year Hufflepuff's long honey colored hair. Which gave a lot of shrieking, that died down when the girl gotten professor McGonagall's help with it. The poor bat.

Harry was rather enjoying himself; there were pastries and candies everywhere. The pumpkin pastries were just disgusting; he had a long-time hatred for the taste of pumpkins.

Then all his fun was ruined by professor Quirrell sprinting in and shrieking about a troll in the dungeon. The dungeon! That had nothing to do with them, why couldn't they just enjoy the sweets instead of getting interrupted by someone faking such a pathetic faint? Sigh

Then there was Dumbledore's idea of everyone returning to their deformities…which happened to be in the dungeon. Could the man be more unreasonable? Harry was disappointed in the man, truly. Maybe the whole 'I'm loony' thing worked but that surly didn't build trust. That was an absurd reasoning.

Harry sighed and practically pressed down some sort of chocolate desert before heading out the hall.

.-.

Harry strolled down the second-floor corridor. Not bothering with joining the Slytherin students in the library were the younger students were being reassured by the older ones. That was what was good with Slytherin, they took care of their own, of each other. They didn't much interact with other students from different houses because they kept to themselves.

Though, there was a bad point about it. They would notice him gone.

Someone was coming his way. Harry pressed his back against the wall, not wanting to know what troubles he'd be in if someone were to find him. He could see the profile of the individual who moved towards third floor, the forbidden one. Dark swooping robes, ink black hair, pale skin… Severus! Shouldn't he be in the dungeons with the rest of the professors? Someone had let the troll in as a distraction.. But Harry was sure that person wasn't the potions master.

When Severus was out of reach he strode down the corridor once again. A shrill scream was heard from close by, reminding him of the incident about two months ago. Harry froze and Light who had just come around the corner to follow him stopped too. The death god tilted his head to the left.

Then it came out of a girl's bathroom: The troll. It grunted while dragging a club after it, Harry noticed that the club left a bloody trail. So did the troll's footsteps. Oh god. That scream was probably belonging to the owner of all that blood, someone young; as most witches would be able to handle a troll, at least at the age of fifteen. Hopefully her death had been fast, he imagined being half crushed but still being alive with a shudder.

Then it saw him and gave an unintelligent roar and started closing in on him. It was nothing similar to the psycho he'd met months before. This was different, there was no particular bloodlust. It took huge steps but the movements were slow and so were the reactions. Harry knew he could run away, that he in fact should.

He should run for survival, he should run because it was the smart thing to do, because he wanted to value his life. But there was the shame of turning a back on your opponent, as Harry had done so many times with Dudley. He never wanted anyone to find out about that.

So he decided, he should stop running. Harry's hand itched toward his bag..

"The troll doesn't have a name, you cannot use the death note" Light sounded almost apologetic. Well, apparently you couldn't always rely on mysterious objects. The troll swung the bloodied club and he sidestepped. It was really slow.. But definitely powerful.

His wand was in his hand. Determination filled his mind. He could do this. "Incendio" he tried and failed. Over and over again he tried until it hit the target's eyes. The troll roared in rage. How to take down a troll? Harry's mind swirled. The head was rather small, neck not as compact as the rest of its body. Right below the chin and high up on the neck. Cutting curse.. Aim! He collected his magic, knowing the curse wasn't powerful enough to sever the whole thing without a lot of force. Maybe reading some dark magic books wouldn't be so bad after all.. His concentration was set as it came at him. He brought up the wand in one fluid motion and.. "DIFFINDO"

.-.

**Uhh.. You might think I'm all blasé about Ron's death, but I seriously didn't plan for this to happen. It just sort of did…heh. Or Hermione's for the matter, I'm not sure she is dead though.**

**.-.**

**So.. Leave a review, if you feel like it. **


	9. Saturday

**Here we go again –I have started up with some other fics, I might post some later;)**

**Btw, Thank you for the reviews!**

9. Saturday

.-.

Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face, wiping away the blood that had splattered over him when severing the neck of the troll. He smeared the blood of on his trousers and closed his eyes. Footsteps were echoing down the corridor and coming closer; two, no three people. With eyes still closed he heard an intake of breath and a frightened little squeak.

Professor McGonagall, Quirrell and Severus stood on the other side of the troll's very much dead body. Harry knew he had put too much force necessary in the spell, but the spell was only supposed to cut quite a soft material. Either way, he had drained a lot from his core. His feet were unsteady and he had sudden urge to sleep. Light looked at him with a puzzled expression and as from a haze he could see Severus running forward to steady him.

Harry admitted that what he'd done was stupid, very stupid. Instead of killing the troll he could have knocked it out. When Severus tried to pick him up in bridal style he had to stop him. Not wanting people to see his weakness.

"I'm fine, I'm fine" he murmured through closed eyes "there was a screaming girl in the bathroom" he got out before he was pulled down to the abyss of unconsciousness.

.-.

It was early morning when he snuck out of Severus' quarters. After he'd passed out the man had put him in his spare bedroom. Harry was thankful for that; preferring the dungeons over the hospital bed with Madame Pomfrey breathing down the neck of her patients.

Just as he stepped outside the portrait to the room he saw the most peculiar sight. A chubby little man in filthy clothes transformed, head was shrinking, teeth not changing at all, the body still rather round was now greyish fur, and there were ears and a long wormy tail. Harry was sure he'd never seen the man before, but looking down at the rat he recognized it. Ronald's lazy pet rat –was an animagus. Probably an unregistered one.

"Stupefy" he whispered and the spell hit the rat; knocking it unconscious. For some reason it seemed important. He decided it was time for a trip to the library.

.-.

This was luck –more than luck. It was a happy fate, it just couldn't be a coincidence. Harry had been looking up the registered animaguses alive today and had not found the man anywhere. His suspicions had sat in, what sane man hid as a pet rat for twelve years (it's was not Harry's fault that he remembered what the rambling Weasley had been telling him around 50- times)? So there was only one conclusion, the man, rat, whatever, was hiding from something. His first suspicion was of course some deatheater seeking vengeance. But all deatheaters had been caught (except those who bribed the jury). Maybe not all but Harry guessed that some of them had traded names for fewer years in Azkaban.

…and then, there it was. An article about Sirius Black and how he _betrayed _the Potter family, killed a man called; Peter Pettigrew and blown up a street filled with muggles. There were photos and texts about how bravely Pettigrew had fought to protect himself, but everything left of him had been finger when Black was done with him.

Harry picked the unconscious rat up by the tail, holding it in a pincer grip –obviously not wanting to touch the _thing _further. He eyed each of it paws and there, on the left front paw there was a toe missing. Sirius Black was Harry's legal guardian, a way to escape the Dursleys. He hesitated though, Harry always wanted the truth and justice but when it was personal… What if Sirius was just like the Dursleys? Or too insane?

He had heard about the creatures guarding in Azkaban. Dementors they were called and sucked out every happy feeling you ever had and left you in despair.

Well, at the moment he would take his chances with Sirius Black.

.-.

"Do you want to come?" He was back in Severus chambers; it was still early for a Saturday morning. Light eyed him and then broke in a cold smirk.

"What else am I to do?" smirk still evident on his face. Harry shook his head and headed for the floo. He had read about this… take the floo-powder step into the fireplace-take a deep breath- throw it as you speak the place of destination loud and clearly- "Ministry of magic!"

It felt like he was sucked into tiny pipes and travelled through them. When he got out he fell quite ungracefully on his knees in a coughing fit. A hand grasped his upper arm and he stared up in the icy grey eyes of Lucius Malfoy's face. The man smiled faintly and said "Muggleborn?" it was uttered so sweetly that it almost sent shivers over his skin.

"Halfblood" Harry curtly answered, apparently his ungraceful…landing stated that it was his first time. The older Malfoy actually smiled now, purebloods did not really hate halfbloods. As some of the Slytherins had said 'Some of them are even good to marry'. Ahh.. Slytherins and their need to always get an heir in their oh-so almighty families. Sigh. Harry was mostly considered a pureblood if you saw it politically, he was the heir and soon to be lord of two of the most influential noble families in England. Even though he wasn't actually from the direct line of the Blacks. But Sirius Black had made him his sole heir when he was born. Apparently not planning on getting kids. Maybe gay?

"How come a boy at your age isn't in school right now?" The blonde asked as Harry flipped his hair so his scar would not be visible. He was lucky he didn't look like everyone's picture of Harry Potter.

"I had some.. Discoveries and I would like them taken care off straight away" Let's not tell the man that you wanted to rightfully imprison a death eater. It was common knowledge that the Malfoys supported Voldemort in the war.

"Anything I can help with?" The blonde asked while smiling at him, a hand on his shoulder. Why was his smile so genuine all of sudden? It wasn't like the way people like this worked… Ah –the man had noticed the snake emblem on his chest. Riight.. They protected their own. Harry had a hard time to detect the Slytherins intentions from time to time. To them he was one of them, but still not _truly _one of them. They expected him to become though.

Light sighed impatiently behind him, did the death god have a hate for blondes? Sure he had killed a redhead because he had gotten too close for comfort but whenever he saw a longhaired blonde it seemed like the temperature in the room dropped considerably.

Harry ignored the notion and smiled while dusting of his robes "No, but I appreciate the offer". The blonde only smiled, this was how Slytherins worked. If he had accepted the help he would have owed the Malfoy senior something. At the moment he had no desire for owning a debt.

Which got his thoughts to Severus; the man had taken care of him in his unconscious state. Did you count that in to the job of being head of Slytherin? Let's say it did. Maybe a Christmas gift and a thank you note would suffice? Probably.

Harry bid his goodbye to the Malfoy lord and strolled off to what he assumed to be one of the front desks. There was sign for which level each department was held. He walked up to the elderly woman and smiled politely at her. God how he hated smiling like this, maybe he should have stayed home. Referring to Hogwarts as home had started some time ago. But this was not the time to act as an inexperienced child. He was a Slytherin after all.

"Hello dear, how can I help you?" The woman asked, a motherly smile graced her features and Harry could say she looked better like this. Before she'd seemed as a slouching, glooming, older woman with greasy curly red hair.

"Yes. I want to correct a wrongdoing with the department of law enforcement. Could you make me some type of appointment? Immediately" She seemed a little taken back but smiled once again.

"Is it concerning improper use of magic?" Aah.. She thought he had used magic outside school.

Light had started humming on some weird melody and let's say this.. it was distracting. Not only because it seemed like something Light would never do but because it had a really creepy ring to it. It felt like the death god was planning evil insane plans just next to him.

"Oh no, It's concerning a wrongfully imprisoned man and also the real culprit of the crime" He answered dismissingly while she tensed. Oh, this was quite amusing –now she thought him some kind of criminal.

Light had started to sail towards the woman, cracking an evil smirk as he blew what Harry could only guess was cold air on the back of her neck. He wanted Harry to snap? Bring it on.

"An appointment?" he asked patiently as she seemed to snap out of whatever shivering and flapping her arms she had been doing.

"Eh.. Yes. Mr. Crouch is very busy.. But I might... Is it concerning the aurors? Or well, is it very urgent?" Did it concern the aurors? Maybe. Urgency? Harry frowned, to him; no hurry needed. He could sit down and drink tea over this. To them; Very much so.

"You could say so" The rat was still in its cage though, Harry swung the cage forcefully. It was still very much stunned.

"Then I'll contact Mr. Crouch, and.. your name?" She swallowed and fidgeted slightly under his penetrating gaze. How uncomfortable he could make them.

"Harry Potter" he answered without hesitation, maybe a little flippantly. The woman's eyes widened momentarily. Harry on the other hand, smiled an almost creepy way. This was so much _fun. _

.-.

"Mr. Potter" The man nodded in a greeting. Harry took a seat in the chair in front of the desk the man was seated behind. There were two auror officials behind him. He frowned; at least they took what an eleven year old boy said quite seriously.

The man looked old, tired. Much older than Dumbledore, just not in years and knowledge. If Harry was right the man had imprisoned people without any sympathy. Wonder how many innocent who had been put under arrest? The man had even sentenced his son to a lifetime in Azkaban.

"I would offer you tea if this hadn't been such a pressing matter. Now tell me, what is it I've been called here for?" Harry watched the man's curt behavior, the stiffness around his shoulders, the expressionless mask that seemed to be breaking just a little. He stared. Harry knew he could break that mask, but maybe this wasn't the right time.

"It's concerning the men named Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew" Harry flung the rat's cage up on the desk and crossed his legs while smiling a little to the strained man. "Sirius Black never received a trial, right?" Everyone was supposed to have a trial, even those caught on the scene of the crime.

"Sirius Black was caught laughing-"One of the aurors spoke, but was silenced by Harry interrupting.

"Some people laugh when they're in disbelief, under a lot of pressure or have experienced a loss. Mostly when they are closing in on a breakdown" Harry told the stiffening auror, the young woman clenched her fists and bit down on her lip. The way he had told her had been mockingly, as if explaining one plus one to a little child.

"Then what is it that? Did you bring your pet here!" She said while pointing accusingly at the rat. Now this would be funny.

He stood and opened the cage with a tap of his wand –"allow me to show you?" he directed the question towards Mr. Crouch instead of the fuming girl. Had she just gotten out of Hogwarts? And what was that horrid color of her hair!

Harry fished the stupefied rat out by the tail, looking at it disgustingly which proved her wrongness in it bringing his _pet. _"Look at his front paw, missing something?" He shot a blue spell at the rat and dropped it at the same time. The rat transformed and then there was only Peter Pettigrew.

"I'm about eighty-five percent sure that he will have the darkmark tattooed into his left arm. Please do question him with veritaserum, we don't want any more… wrongdoings, right?" He smiled at them as one of the aurors had bound the man and checked his arm for the mark. Which was very much there.

"Do release my godfather soon" He said flippantly and left them in their distress.

"Well, that was fun" Light hummed and Harry couldn't help but silently agree.

What a productive day.

.-.

**Did you like the chapter?**

**.-.**

**I've realized something! More reviews make me want to update faster…soo just press the buttooooon.**

**.-.**


	10. Alibi

**Hello darlings, loved ur reviews (heart eyes)… This I've been watching while writing this –so if it's weird- here's the reason;**

**.com/watch?v=Bc2ELyADhTA&feature=feedf**

**.-.**

**I'm still considering… is this supposed to be a slash after all?**

**Just tell me, yes or no?**

**.-.**

10. Alibi

.-.

It was Christmas break and winter had come. The lake had frozen and was covered with five inches deep snow, the trees in the forbidden forest looked as if they belonged to a fairytale. Harry was one of the few that stayed in the castle; most people had gone home to celebrate Christmas/Yule with their families. Considering he didn't have a family, sure he had relatives but that didn't count, he spent his time in the castle studying and taking criticism from Light.

Being a Slytherin and quite a name in the magical world required that he at least had to attend one Christmas or Yule ball. They were for purebloods and their families, dark or light, it did not matter. For some reason he had been invited to the Malfoy's winter ball on Christmas Eve. Draco didn't seem so keen on him coming so Harry took it as if Malfoy senior was the one wanting him to attend. Not that Malfoy senior knew that they had already met, but but.. Harry decided that he would attend Malfoy's ball even if he and Draco not exactly liked each other.

Dumbledore had informed him that the girl he _saved _survived the attack of the troll. Her state was still not entirely stable but she was alive. She had been a muggleborn and her parents were insisting in taking her out of Hogwarts, if she needed to go to another magical school it would be one of their choices. Maybe it was for the better; she could start over and get some friends. Instead of people that would be forever reminded of a troll smashing half her brains in.

Harry had yet to meet the infamous Sirius Black; he- just as Hermione (the muggleborn in the troll accident) - been locked up in St Mungos since the week after Halloween. Harry had been informed by the ministry that he was a little crazed but still relatively sane and stable. The only violent behavior was at the mentions of the rat, Pettigrew. The ministry had also thought of not mentioning this _incident _concerning Black's innocence to the Daily Prophet. Harry had felt so in the mood that day that he contacted one of the vilest reporters and told her about the story. It had been printed very beautifully the day afterwards.

In his little chat with Dumbledore he had been told that Sirius was seriously instable (the man's own perspective and judgment) and he still had to return to the Dursleys. Harry had expected this attack of course. The headmaster had insisted that the bloodwards would keep him safe from Voldemort. Considering most off the wizarding population believed him dead it would be easy to manipulate his way out of there. But right now, that wasn't the case. Now Harry was all about valuing his life but he had no want in returning to that abusive environment. He would just in the same never tell anyone about his relatives' behavior or how they treated him. It had mostly been verbal abuse, but it was still a really uncomfortable living condition. Of course Harry would never tell anyone, he wanted no one to know about it. Therefore Harry had his plans.

.-.

The day before Christmas turned out to be rather dull. He woke up to a lonely dorm room and one just as lonely common room. His holidays had so far included studying and chatting happily with Light. Yes, Light made him happy with his frustration. Obviously Light was a very dominating and selfish person with a strong sense of justice and considering that the death god was tied to Harry he often complained about how boring it was to watch him study.

"Don't tell me you're going out _now?_" Harry cast a quick tempus charm, sigh. His insomnia hadn't gotten any better he observed as it was only 4 am.

Harry stretched and put on a thin robe over his pajamas. Barefoot he stepped out of the common room, humming softly while he heard Light's wings flutter after him. Light had taken it to walking with him but apparently not today. Lazy bastard.

With hands in his pockets Harry moved to the kitchens where he was greeted by ecstatic house-elves. He sat listening to the chattering elves as they rabbled on and on about their chores as if it was the best thing ever happened in the world. Harry sipped his venomously sweet tea in content and crushed a gingerbread cookie in his palm, nibbling on each piece. He turned when he heard a frustrated sigh behind him, there Light stood in all his death god glory glaring at him.

"Can't we do something productively today?" It appeared as if he was bored, they better do something before the death god started to whine. That would contradict in the world in ruins.

"We're going to a funeral, as you very well know" Harry said absently as he cracked his second cookie in four pieces. He held up a piece before Light's face and stared at him with brows furrowed "Do you ever eat?" As if to prove his point Light closed his mouth around the cookie Harry held up before him. He smiled and mock glared at the death god. "When I want" Harry shook his head, why not eat? It's not like the food was especially bad here, very greasy but still..

"…The savior is talking to himself"

"Master is turning crazy" The assembled house-elves gasped while staring at the house-elf that had said it in disbelief. It had started banging its head against the wall in a very harmful way. That must hurt. Badly.

"Ticky, it's your turn feeding Fluffy" Fluffy?

"Fluffy?" Light asked him, confusion marred the death god's face. That did not sound like a house-elf's name. Harry sighed and forced his face into a polite smile.

"Excuse me.." the elves hushed each other with a 'master speaks' look.

"Exactly who is Fluffy?" Let's go with 'who' instead of 'what.'

.-.

He couldn't believe it, wouldn't rather. There was a Cerberus in the castle. Which was the reason why the third floor was forbidden. Light and Harry had stared wide eyed at the creature noting to themselves to find out where that trapdoor went. They left before waking the enormous creature.

.-.

Harry was wearing white robes that reached his mid-thighs; underneath the robe he wore tight black pants and a black shirt with a pair of green dragon-hide boots. Black robes were common in the wizarding world; therefore you always wore white or other happy colors on weddings. On funerals you wore white and black. He stared at his reflection, in reality he did not care for how he looked but he had to admit; he looked fantastic for an eleven year old. Not that people saw him as eleven, he acted more mature than most of his classmates.

"Are you done admiring yourself?" Light drawled from behind him and Harry flashed him a smile. Was it only him or were the death god acting like a grumpy old man? Harry decided that it was because no one could see Light and admire him in all his glory and handsomeness. Yes, Light was strangely attractive. Oh, well..

"Yes"

They both went up to the great hall, where both Dumbledore and professor McGonagall were standing, waiting for him. Harry caught a glimpse of professor Quirrell and Severus, they were obviously not coming. Professor Quirrell was up to something after all and Severus seemed to be one of the only ones who noticed. It had something to do with the trapdoor on the third floor, something that was guarded. It would not surprise Harry if it had something to do with the so called deceased dark lord. From what he had learnt the scar on his forehead was no ordinary one, it was a curse scar. The stinging pain he felt in it from time to time might just have something to do with Voldemort.

"Are you ready to go, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, the sternness in her voice had faded and there was a deep underlying sadness residing. Harry had to remind himself that he was going to a funeral after all.

Apparently it would take place at Weasleys home, the burrow. Of what he knew, Harry was the only Slytherin invited to the funeral. Oh! The prejudice of both of the sides' perspective was just so amusing. He congratulated himself in being neutral in their eternal feud.

McGonagall was wearing a thick black robe with a whiteish dress robe underneath. "Do you know how to use the floo-powder Mr. Potter?"

.-.

Harry happily congratulated himself as he stepped out of the floo. This time he had not made a complete fool of himself. He was taken by surprise though; the room was packed with people. There was Hagrid, the gamekeeper, the whole Weasley family, probably relatives-a lot of them with red hair, family friends and their families and most of the Gryffindors from first to third year.

Swarming with Gryffindors, both outside and inside. The funeral was obviously supposed to take place outside-which was a ridiculous idea considering the five inches deep snow. Harry sighed; this was going to be a very long day.

The plumb orange headed woman Harry had spotted in Diagon Alley made her way over with the same little girl behind her in a tow. So this was their objective in inviting him here. And at the moment it would look really bad to try to escape them.

"Harry dear, right?" The woman said, giving a way too over enthusiastic smile. Harry twitched. Firstly, that she'd spoken his name without permission (not that the whole wizarding world didn't) and second to the appendix of the 'dear' as if they were close! But Harry would not let his irritation show.

"Mrs. Weasley, I presume?" He took her hand and shook it with a large amount of distaste. Did her arm just wabble?

"I'm sorry for your loss" during this the little girl had still not came out from hiding behind her mother. Her face was scary, yes, the little girl's face utterly terrified him. It was covered in make-up; a foundation several shades darker than her pale skin tone, she wore such an amount of mascara that you could believe if she was about to blink-her eyelashes would get stuck together. She wore the most ugly blue eye shadow over her hazel eyes, it smudged underneath the eye making her look tired and gaunt.

She pulled at her mother's robes, making the woman look down at her and much too loudly she whispered:

"He looks like a girl" Harry wanted to hit himself. Behind him he could feel Light's clear amusement at the girl's display of seductiveness; winking her eyes (strangely the eyelashes didn't get stuck together), pouting her thin nary lips while willing her face in one of the most unattractive expressions he'd ever seen.

Her mother must have seen the disgust that he truly couldn't conceal on his face and she looked up over the crowd.

"Bill, Charlie!" Two more redheads showed up not soon afterwards. Both around their twenties. The shorter of the two had broader shoulder and a rather muscular jaw, his hair was a short stylish mess and he had one of the most playful smiles Harry had ever set his eyes on. The older male smiled broadly at him and gave his hand a firm shake. "Charlie"

The taller of the two was currently giving his mother a very nasty glare that consisted of narrowed eyes. That's when it hit Harry; she was trying to get Harry married into her family. It had taken Harry by surprise when he found out that it was not highly unusual for same-sex marriages in the wizarding world. Just one potion and you could get knocked up, even if you were male.

Harry only raised a calculating eyebrow at the fidgeting woman and then took the offered hand. "Bill Weasley" Harry nodded.

"Harry Potter" Bill didn't seem too surprised but Charlie's eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets. Bill had a very exotic look, from one of his ears there hang a fang of some kind. His dark red hair was just slightly longer than Harry's and was tied into a little braid. His style of clothes was not much different from Harry's choice either.

It took Harry some time to escape from Mrs. Weasley, but Bill, the oldest of the Weasley sibling, had given him a sympathetic glance and made up a distraction. Harry decided he liked the guy.

In his hurry for escape he ran into a little girl. Her long pale ash-blonde hair was tied into a long braid and she was the only one not wearing white or black. He stared at her in disbelief he; she was wearing a long red dress that fit her much better than the get up Ginny Weasley was wearing. They must be about the same age.

"I'm sorry, are you okay?" He was given a dreamy smile. A very distant dreamy smile.

"I'm fine, Harry Potter?" Harry only nodded. Most people didn't know at first glance who he was. But somehow she did.

"I'm Luna Lovegood" They shook hands and Harry quirked an eyebrow.

"May I ask why you're wearing red?"

"Why not? Red stand for death and love, blood and passion, all aspects of life, why should I not celebrate the life Ronald lived?" Light chuckled behind him; he seemed to have a lot of fun on Harry's expense tonight.

She stared behind him were Light was standing, she stared intensely-reminding him of himself. "You have death on your shoulder" What? Unbelievable. Who was this girl to take him by surprise?

"Wh-what?" Ah, great. He stuttered.

"The nargles told me" She smiled at them again, not caring for both of them being jaw slacked. "We should head outside-the ceremony is starting" and indeed it was.

.-.

Dumbledore was the one speaking, it was extremely boring but no one took their concentration of the headmaster as he spoke of Ronald Weasley. No one except one boy.

With no one's attention on him Harry drew out a pencil and wrote in a black notebook.

Harry's living arrangements were now secured and so were the memories of shame during his childhood. He let out a sigh in relief and watched as the funeral rolled on.

.-.

**All of you are probably wondering-did they find Ron's body? No, they did not. But the clock on the wall at the Weasleys stated his death so blablahblah.**

**Later on I'm going to-most likely- include some muggles in the story and it might just be something about wammy's organization. **

**Oh, and about why the portrait to Sev's room opened for him, it likes him.**

**.-.**

**I'm still considering… is this supposed to be a slash after all?**

**Just tell me, yes or no?**

**.-.**

**REVIEW! **


	11. Yule

**I think I have been going through a depressive state of my life but BAM! All off sudden- I'm happy and because of what? Because of what! A fucking lamp (that gives of this warm happy Christmas-y feel, aaaah ecstasy)**

**Anyway, I just made a bleach one-shot. You know it just came to me, so please consider reading it? Yeah, I would be thankful if you did. Like, really. Heh ;)**

**.-.**

11. Yule

.-.

_**Vernon Dursley, house fire**_

_**Petunia Dursley, house fire**_

_**Dudley Dursley, house fire**_

Harry hummed while tapping the words with a pencil in a fast beat. Yes, a pencil, not a quill. At the moment he was most upset with the bastard quill. It was _very _inconvenient. He always somehow ran out of ink, though, most of the time it ended up in his face like black spots. Last time it looked like he had made war-paint, god it was aggravating. Considering Harry was a perfectionist he could only assume that Light had something to do with it. Not that this fact would ever be proved.

Harry was currently sitting in the great hall, it was Christmas morning but Dumbledore-to his elation- had still not shown up for breakfast. Oh yes, the man was dealing with trouble. Harry wanted to sing, but thought better then actually being so spontaneous to actually _try. _

Then the man strode in, Harry noted that the blue eyes had lost their usual twinke and that the long wanna-be-merlin beard wasn't so shiny this particular morning. He closed the glamoured death note shut. Making Light look up at him with a puzzled expression. Of course he hadn't told the death god, he had wanted to save the reaction for later.

"Harry, ma' boy. I need to see you in my office" Uhh.. Such a wrong phrase. But Harry was just so _happy _today. Even if he needed to attend the Malfoy ball tonight.

So he practically skipped after the headmaster, making Light raise a questioning eyebrow at his antics. Which he happily returned with a smug smirk. For the first time in his life he acted like a child on Christmas morning… which it ironically it was. But he just felt so, so free.

They went through a marble gargoyle passage to come to the headmaster's office. "Take a seat Harry" It was time to put on his game face.

"Have I done something wrong headmaster?" yes, the world would rue if he so wanted it but at the moment he was content with doing things for his own gain only. It was Voldemort and Dumbledore that fought over the 'unofficial ruler over Britain' seat.

"No, no, of course not my boy" Dumbledore smiled briefly before setting his expression grimly "I have very unfortunate news" unfortunate? Not at all, this, this was ecstasy.

Harry could feel Light's eyes on him from behind, calculating- knowing he had done something. "You're relatives had an accident and none of them survived" He wanted to smile, clap his hands, start dancing. Anything, but instead he stared impassively at the headmaster. "I'm so very sorry for your loss Harry" Light hummed from behind him, wings fluttered and he looked to see what the death god was doing.

Panic raced through him, Light was writing. In his own notebook, in a death note. Was it his name? Had the death god gotten enough? Was it Dumbledore? Fuck-fuck-fuck. He started counting in his head, thirty-eight, thirty-seven, thirty-six..

"Harry my boy-"

Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven.. He kept on staring at Light as if to say 'What did you do?', but the death god only gave him a smug grin. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all.

"Sorry, headmaster. I must have been a little out of it" He gave the old man a brief smile, but his body was tense as if something was coming. Something serious coming… Soon.

"Oh, I understand Harry. Maybe you should take it easy today and not go to the Malfoys'?" Aha, so this was what it was really about. Black had already gotten the magical guardianship but not the normal one, but now, he had. Dumbledore had no right anymore to tell him what he couldn't or could do.

"I think I better go, it would be an insult to the Malfoys' to accept and then don't turn up, plus I could need the distraction" He stood up, without any sign of dismissal "If you excuse me headmaster" Harry said leaving the man with a frown plastered on his face.

"What was that about!" Harry hissed as quietly as possible to the death god as they turned left after the gargoyle.

"Oh, that.. A trick." Harry was very much seething by now.

"A bloody trick?" He tried to calm himself, breathing in and out, letting his expressions seal behind a mask of curious indifference. But no one could mistake the fire in the eyes for anything but anger.

"Oh, yes. Now you actually do seem sad for your relatives supposedly accidentally death" Light smirked lightly. Hah, bloody hah-why did they both have to be such sadists? This would turn to a war in the long run. Sigh.

.-.

"Mr. Potter" Severus greeted him as he went in to the man's private rooms, terribly happy that the potions master's portrait liked him better than other students. He never asked it why though; deciding to do so later on.

"Severus, you know you can call me Harry" The man didn't take note of his comment. Harry wore green this time, formal dress robes in a quite dark emerald color. His eyes were practically black but only when the sun shone on his face you could see the obvious green.

Severus himself wore what looked like his ordinary robes; black. Apparently the man was also invited-so they decided to go together. Or rather, Dumbledore had ordered Severus to keep an eye on him. Not that Severus wouldn't have done that either way. Harry heard Light's wings flutter behind him but promptly ignored the death god. He would not forgive the death god so easily.

Severus picked up some floo powder and took a hold of Harry's shoulder and pressed them both inside the enormous fireplace. "Malfoy Manor" and they went through the undeniably _strange _feeling for Harry's third time.

He nearly crashed into the very same blonde ha had crashed into the first time. At least he hadn't fallen to the floor this time. Let's keep it formal, Harry thought.

"I apologize" The man stared pensively at him for a second, frown on his face.

"Oh, I met you in Ministry of magic, did I not?"

"Yes, I so ungracefully ran into you, again, I apologize" They seemed to have a staring session and Harry had to remind himself that it was not a good example as pureblood to stare at someone as intensely as he usually did.

"It's quite alright. Ah where are my manners- Lucius Malfoy" He took the offered hand. Thank god, the Malfoy lord did not seem to do manicure, he had always believed that all the Malfoys' did.

"Harry Potter" The man's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets before his expression closed up behind a polite smile, hah, this really was amusing. At least he had been able to take the man by surprise. Everyone always expected him to look like his mother or father. But he had only a couple of insignificant features off both of them. It seemed more like they both had blood-adopted him, or something. Could they have?

"You are not what I expected you to be" The man practically blurted out, both Harry and Severus raised an eyebrow. Severus went and greeted the Lady Malfoy, who looked like she could easily be Lucius' sister. Not to mention the purebloods kinky thing for incest

"Is that a good or a bad thing?" Harry wondered out loud. The blonde chuckled.

"Definitely a good thing" It almost looked like the blonde was checking him out as his eyes went up and down his body. Staring at his face, calculating "You do not look much like them-your parents" He wore the most peculiar expression.

Harry smirked, "I agree" The blonde offered an arm and led him into the ball room.

.-.

Harry strolled down the sickly white corridor, he whistled jovially. The Malfoy ball had been strange and he had-after being introduced-hidden himself in a corner where no one could find him. He didn't much like being ambushed by former death eaters, scary teenage fans or the minister of magic that had all been frantically searching for him.

Light's tall body cast a shadow after him as they walked; yes, the death god had finally taken to human ways and started walking on the ground. Not that there was a point, no one could exactly see him. It was quite a shame actually. The extra feet made the empty corridor's taps even loader. To anyone there, it must've seemed like it echoed-which it, thank god, didn't-.

Arriving at the destination he knocked lightly at the door- no one answered. Sighing he opened the door and stepped in. Two worn out men sat holding hands on the bed. Both in a very intimate embrace, either they were lovers or someone had recently died. One had dirt blonde hair and rather kind, tired- old beyond their age- amber eyes. The other one was obviously a handsome man, long chocolate brown hair that reached thin but broad shoulders. He looked dirty, sane but still not.

"Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt?" Harry made a move as if to step out of the room but instead he was practically attacked (assaulted) by the men throwing themselves at him. Literally. It was at this moment that Harry prayed for the first time in his life. Don't let one of these men be Sirius Black.

"It's really him Moony"

"Yes, it's cub"

"HARRY!" They both burst into tears. Damn.

.-.

**Check out my new Bleach one-shot**

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**Review! -tell me what you think –god/bad?**


	12. Invisibility

**Random question: every time I read the title of this fic it always comes out in this mock intimidating tone-does the title royally suck?**

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12. Invisibility

.-.

Harry watched the man as he walked down the corridor.

Something was wrong judging from the tense shoulders and the grim expression the older man was wearing. His interest peaked and he decided to follow the headmaster. Luckily he was already draped in the invisibility cloak he had received during Christmas. Apparently it had been his father's. Harry suspected strongly that he had gotten the cloak from the headmaster's possession. It might be because of manipulation, giving him more freedom thanks to it. The one who had granted the 'freedom' had been Dumbledore therefore Harry would start to appreciate the man. Maybe this was the fact. But it was only speculations after all.

Light flew after him as he sneaked after the headmaster. Harry made sure to keep his breathing and any other sound concealed. Which was a hard feat to accomplish with such a powerful wizard. As silently as possible Harry climbed down the stairs to… the third floor, the forbidden one.

"Well, this is interesting" Light commented behind him. At the moment Harry was so overly thankful that the death god could not be seen nor heard by anyone but himself.

The old man flicked his wrist and the lock on _that_ door clicked open. Harry slipped through the door before the headmaster could wandlessly slam it shut. His breath caught as he once again stared up at the three headed beast. This was not good, the old man better do something because those noses could easily pick up his scent. He valued his life damn it. A harp was conjured out of nowhere and was charmed to start playing. Strangely enough, the cerberus –Fluffy- fell asleep almost instantly. Well, that was annoyingly easy.

But that was not what was interesting at the moment. Whatever that was guarded must be in danger and the old man had come to take care of the… offender.

Dumbledore opened the trapdoor with a swish of his wand. Harry followed the wand movements with his eyes, since the old man seemed to do more non-verbal spells than usually for wizards it would be hard to pick up on what he was doing. He could distinguish a complicated levitation charm and he ran forward to see the man being levitated down into the black hole. The tip of the old man's wand flared to life and cast a blindingly bright light all over the cushioned surface bellow. A small torch of light was still on the tip of the man's wand as he levitated himself further down. When Harry heard footsteps on the bottom of the floor walking away he followed by jumping down.

Levitating himself was not as easy as it looked, the more complex 'wingardium leviosa' wand movements he'd seen was hard to take control over. All of the time he had to concentrate on not flying up and just lessen the fall. When he passed the former cushioned area he saw what it used to have been. It was dead now though; a devil's snare. It had been reduced to threads, burned threads and Harry could only imagine professor Sprout's crying if she saw this 'vandalism'.

He somehow managed to levitate himself the whole way down (with some hastily cast cushioning spells on the floor). Light had just followed him while watching amusedly as Harry did his best not to fall on the stone floor and break his hip. The sadistic bastard.

Harry moved to the other room when he heard the fluttering of wings. Many wings and not the flapping ones like Light's but harsh metallic sounding. They were keys he realized. Every one of them looked practically like copies instead of one, a big one with a broken wing. A broom hovered above the ground and Harry could easily understand the task. Get the key to the door. Just that this time, the door was already opened.

He secured the invisibility cloak around himself as he sneaked through the door. He passed a brutally murdered troll, one time larger than the one wandering around the castle during Halloween. Next was a chess board, all of the pieces were smashed. Rather sad, it must have looked magnificent. Then.. a puzzle. The puzzle screamed of Severus. Instead of wasting time he took the bottle that had already been drunk from and was lead to a room. A room with two wizards dueling.

"_Dumbledore.."_ A voice hissed, Quirrell hissed. Just that it wasn't Quirrell, but it came from his side of the room. Considering no one else was there Harry just concluded that it came from him. He swept his eyes around the architecture of the room. He was standing on the top of lined staircase with the two wizards dueling beneath him. Behind them stood a mirror. A mirror? Must be the last task.

"_Let me ssspeak to him.."_ The voice reminded him of a snake, a fearsome snake ready to strike. A tingly burning feeling had erupted in his scar and Harry frowned. Weird. He promised himself to check up on the effects of curse scars. Not that he would find the precise thing considering no one else had survived the killing curse. He was hit by the killing curse because of Voldemort- Quirrell had something to do with the dark lord. Voldemort wanted whatever was guarded in the room, Dumbledore wouldn't let it happen. Harry smiled as he summarized; Voldemort was in the room, wanting something that could give him life back. No, not life-a body.

"But master.." Qurrell cried pathetically. Dumbledore was obviously not going all out-probably feeling sorry for the professor in his state of submission.

"_NOW!" _Yep, definitely a lord. Someone not to cross in anger. Dumbledore stopped his actions and watched with narrowed eyes as Quirrell started unwinding his turban. Harry on the other hand-while still very interested in the battle-crept forward towards a strange looking mirror that both Dumbledore and Quirrell were throwing glances at every now and then. Whatever was guarded had something to do with the mirror. It was strangely captivating. The mirror, that is.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi- that was not a language. His eyes flew over the words, he frowned. Interesting; I show not your face but your heart's desire.

"Tom" Dumbledore greeted from behind him and Harry reeled around -his mouth dropped open in shock. Harry actually felt sorry for Quirrell. A face was anchoring itself to the backside of Quirrell's head. The man-face-thing hissed in anger, snake like features becoming more menacing, red eyes narrowing in rage. They weren't exactly crimson as some of the darker inclined families had told him in their 'heroic' stories of the dark lord. The pupils were slit and the irises were almost darker than blood. This must be possession.

The name Tom insinuated that it was Voldemort's own. Hate for his name, there must be significant reason for that. The name Voldemort must be an anagram. Vol de mort- flight of death. There was probably a reason for that too. Actually it fit perfectly considering the accident ten years ago and the dark lord's suspicious survival. Flight of death and his death eaters, it was rather poetic-witty.

The dark lord bit back a snarl and sneered at the older man. "_Dumbledore_" he hissed. Harry turned around to face the mirror-Erised- his memories picked up, it was famous for obvious reasons.

"I'm not letting you have the stone Tom" Stone- a stone?- to help Voldemort gain a body? He would need to read up on that too.

He stared into his reflection-that strangely was there even thought he was wearing an invisibility cloak- while he tuned out his surroundings. Which was quite stupid considering the two strongest wizards in Britain were having a fight. Yes, fight. Not a duel, at the moment it was only witty remarks and insults, both buying time for something. Hopefully he wouldn't get hit in the back by a straying curse. Especially not now when the second term was almost over. Time flew so fast. He was going to live with Sirius in the summer.

Harry examined his face. He looked tired. But there was really no surprise there considering he was an insomniac. Madame Pomfrey and Severus had tried to get him hooked on dreamless sleep potion. It didn't work out so well, or more like it didn't work at all. He stared into his reflection, the almost black eyes suddenly shone bright green and he smirked almost playfully to himself. Harry never smirked playfully, only with intent. With a lazy motion his reflection combed its fingers through the ink black mess and then it took out a stone from behind the ear. Like in one of those muggle-wizard shows. His reflection put it in the inner robe pocket.

"You better get out of here" Light mused as the spells turned more lethal.

.-.

Harry sighed and took a secure hold of the pouch caring both the death note and the philosopher's stone. He would never admit that he worried about being found with these objects on his body, it would be the end of him.

He didn't even know why he had stolen the stone and Harry never did something for no reason at all. Spending time in the library had at least given him the answer to a stone associated with life and immortality. Harry cast a glance at Light, he had the feeling that he would need to contact Voldemort for the obvious reasons.

Light was tossing an apple up and down in the air. He seemed content sprawled out on the seat with his mighty death god feet in Harry's lap. Blaise and Theodore were both following the apple's movements from the other seat in front of them. Harry on the other hand made tapping movements with one of his fingers. Considering both of them weren't yet the best to conduct magic they thought he was doing some wandless spell (which was practically impossible for someone his age). They believed it too, after all Harry was the best in class. It was ok with him if they thought he had some awesome superpower.

It was humorous to Harry how they looked upon him in awe.

Maybe they'd start call him 'Lord' soon and give him sacrifices while doing worship rituals…

Oh dear, how far his mind strayed into the utmost weirdest directions.

.-.

**How was the chapter? Boring? Maybe… *sobbing in despair* Maybe I'm losing my imagination.**

**Please Review!**

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	13. Prelude to war part 1

**I think the plot strayed a bit from the story but loads of main things will start to take part in this chapter. There'll be a lot of muggles involved.**

**Thank you all for the reviews!**

**I just got to say sorry that this update was a little late-I have had a week filled with exams and essays to write. *Sigh* I know I will fail in some subjects and it's making me all twitchy. Maths for one and.. social studies.. There are things I've missed in those two subjects-maybe I can fix it next year after all the course isn't over yet….Sorry! I'm straying of the subject.**

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13. Prelude to war part 1

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"HARRY!"

He mindlessly stepped out of the way for the overly ecstatic Sirius Black running towards him. Sirius didn't care much for the pureblood fashion-which meant that he wouldn't have to sit stiff and regal in a chair, while preaching about his hatred for muggles. Sirius may be pureblood and also a lord of one of the most influenced titles in Europe along with the Malfoys, but he didn't act it. The Potters also used to be in the category of one of the most influenced, but that had apparently died with Harry's grandfather passing; a very cunning ravenclaw.

Families on the platform stopped and stared at the energetic man. Some were gaping; after all it was _the _Sirius Black practically harassing _the _Harry Potter. He heard Light sigh loudly from behind him and his lips quirked into a small smile. Sirius would soon go from an overly happy puppy to fidgeting and awkward. The brief meeting during Christmas was practically just an introduction, but Harry was a rather good judge of character.

His godfather had been released from the St. Mungos only a couple of days earlier, the healers wanted to make sure of his condition. But now harry had to deal with the pent up energy of someone having the mentality of an eight year old. This guardianship would turn into Harry babysitting Sirius. Maybe he could get that other man to do it? Remus Lupin with the strange eyes- there was just something animalistic about them. Harry didn't pounder on the fact that the man might be some sort of magical creature. It did not concern him. Yet, anyway.

"Where's your trunk?" His godfather asked while looking around the platform in confusion. Did the man expect the trunk to actually be hidden behind a pillar or something?

"In my pocket" Harry smiled up at the man, how could Sirius turn out so good despite the fact that he had been wrongfully thrown into Azkaban for nearly ten years. But then again… Harry had no idea what was beneath that silly smile. He knew the man was not exactly unintelligent, so he could not say.

Sirius nodded resignedly "Grab my arm and we can appa- you're a slimy snake!" He stood, pointing accusingly at the green and silver tie that hung loosely around Harry's neck. Oh, dear. Harry had forgotten-a Gryffindor. He rolled his eyes, this was so typical.

"It's just a badge, let's go."

.-.

Later that evening they both sat seated at the dinner table in Grimmauld place number twelve. Light had somehow gotten lost when Sirius and Harry had apparated away. But surely the death god would be able to catch up, Light was by no means incompetent. Sirius was poking around the food with a fork while biting his lower lip- frown marring his face. Harry on the other hand watched the man with no small amount of amusement.

"So.. You're a Slytherin?" Harry raised an eyebrow- was that what this reserved nervousness was all about? Could really a school house rivalry make such a big impact? Oh, of course. This was a dark wizard's house. Sirius Black had been born amongst dark wizards. Which meant he most likely was one himself but unable to agree with their side of the war or idealism. Or he was light, which usually was quite impossible in these sorts of situation. Either way, Sirius Black had been born a pureblood heir in the Black family. Which was not good considering the Blacks were famous for having either some sort of crazed obsession or insanity.

"Yes, I am." Harry tilted his head to the left in fake concern "Will that be a problem?"

"No, uh.. Of course not" Harry was not convinced.

"Look Sirius. You don't have to worry. The snake pit might sound all evil and horrible to you, but we're not all bad." He watched amusedly as spots on the man's cheeks stained adorable pinkish. Embarrassment because of his prejudice, ignorance and biased ideas. But that was the wizarding world for you, always biased and prejudice. At least Sirius had the ability to look guilty, even if just slightly.

The color on his cheeks gave Harry a quick reminder of Draco Malfoy, when the boy was being completely owned in a conversation. If he remembered right the two of them were related. The Malfoy heir's mother was his godfather's cousin. Harry was also related to them-even if distantly, his grandmother had been a Black.

Seeking his family tree's knowledge might've been unnecessary. But it was quite fascinating how much inbreeding there were in especially the Black family. At least things had gotten better two centuries ago when same-sex marriages had been allowed. It became more partners and less inbreeding for the pureblood families. It had all started with some crazed potion master creating a pregnancy potion which allowed males to have a child together.

They needed a female body for that though. It wasn't like in the muggle world- the woman who bore the child would have no DNA or blood relation to the child. It could even be a muggle woman-it would not affect the child. The pureblood families despised that idea anyway, so they usually picked a less worthy half-blood. Half-bloods could be seen as purebloods or not. Harry had gotten the impression that he was considered one-with his famous title and all.

"Eh, Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry smiled in response to the hesitating older man.

"I will be gone a lot this week" He said while fidgeting. Why was the man so uncertain of himself? Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Well, I need to find a job.. And purchase a house—"

"But this is your house Sirius" Harry interrupted. _'Whether you like it or not'._

"No! That's it- it's not! I don't like it here!" Heirloom. Bad memories of the place judging from the tense shoulders and the jumpy demeanor.

So Harry smiled reassuringly to the man.

"Then find one in the south"

.-.

Harry tossed the first year books in the bin. Even if he remembered every paragraph, every sentence and every word it didn't mean he was satisfied with his skill. He was far from it, he believed himself weak.

Before, Harry had felt a certain power over people when he had used the death note. But there were flaws-what if he didn't know a name that he thought necessary to have? What would he do if he found himself at wand-point with a complete stranger that had the intention of killing him. Harry was not paranoid, he was just precautious.

He decided to explore the not-so-clean house. Harry had the usefulness of being magically powerful. His magical core was stronger than those his age- after all he had been able to apparate as a six year old each and every day. Surely a year of not doing any apparation wouldn't make him forget the skill? Would it?

Determination. That was what he needed right now. Light stared at him intensely but Harry ignored the death god and instead started focusing his magic.

Light had found him last night and had been a sneering mess for 'just leaving him there'. Harry snorted at the thought. Shouldn't the _death god _be able to take care of himself?

"Mobiliarbus" He had his palm stretched out, his voice was calm and confident. Harry would move the lamp from one table to the next. He _would. _

The lamp didn't so much as shake.

Light snorted from somewhere behind him _'let him'. _The death god didn't understand anyway. He didn't know how much power needed to be challenged behind a wandless charm. It was only a few wizards above the age of eleven that could do something like that. Accidental magic was a form of wandless magic-but a normal wizard's core would not understand the command. They were used to challenging their magic through wands. Their cores were not powerful enough to handle it anyway. But Harry knew he would be able to do it. Sooner or later.

After three quarters of an hour he was able to move it enough so it could fall to the floor, breaking.

"repairo" He said flippantly and it fixed itself immediately. Huh, maybe this wasn't so hard after all? Harry smiled and switched from charms to spells.

Thank god that wandless magic could not be detected.

.-.

Sirius had already left and Harry was aimlessly wandering the streets. The man had been gone for two days in a row; fixing his accounts, probably getting a job, purchasing a house… So Harry had let him be.

But now; eight am in the morning, Harry sighed. He felt a strong pull in the west. He believed the pull to be magical. It had been highly spiked since yesterday morning. Most people were unable to detect such magic but Harry could feel it. The way it went up and down, but the most horrifying thing was that it wasn't only one person's magic; it was several.

For the first time in a year, he apparated.

He was in the suburbs, the outskirts of London. The huge milky white building didn't look inviting at all. It looked like one of those industrial buildings. But it clearly was not. He could feel the magic from inside, practically seeping out of the foundation. A strange feeling akin to dread spread though his stomach, he shouldn't be here.

But Harry was curious; he slipped under the invisibility cloak he always brought with him and went to the front door. Light was right beside him, oddly tense for a moment- the death god had also felt it. Maybe he even knew the reason for the dread. But being a death god apparently meant not charing secrets.

There was an access code that needed to be pinned in, damn. There was something off, this place was so muggle. But heavily guarded. A heavily guarded muggle building with strange spiking's of magic emitting from it. This could be really bad.

His charcoal green eyes narrowed as he took in his surrounding, there was no way to get in without alerting someone. Apparating was out of the question-such things could be detected if magical folks were inside. He would have to wait.

A woman in her late thirties with red hair tied in a bun and black rimmed glasses opened the door from the inside with a card. A card-would he need one to get inside? He slipped through the door as it almost closed. She was definitely a muggle.

Long clinical white corridors stretched through the building. Every one of them- from seventh floor to the one he had first stepped into- was empty. The magic came from downstairs, underground. Now where could the opening be?

.-.

He was running, clutching the cloak closer to his skin. There were horrors everywhere. His breathing was labored and his inside was crying out in terror. This time he might not be able play ignorant.

They had found out-the muggles. They had found out about the magical world.

Harry pressed himself against the wall, trying not to blow his cover by breathing to hard. Damn. Damn. Damn.

"They are defenseless without their wand- that has been concluded." A monotonic voice spoke from one of the door openings.

"Don't you dare—"A hoarse male voice rasped from the same door. Then there was a snap. Someone had snapped something-probably a wand.

"You filthy muggle!" Oh, how he shared the obvious pureblood's belief at the moment.

"Tell me. Tell me about your kind's world" They sounded like the Dursleys when it came to the way they spoke of magic.

"You live in a magical community that we _normal _human beings can't see" The voice was filled with disdain and Harry knew he had to move away. He couldn't save all these people. The first thing he had passed was a room filled with tortured magical children. They had all been around five years old-strapped to beds with electronic torture making their magic go wild while their bodies shook. Dribble left the side of their mouths. Their young brains hadn't been able to handle the torture. The only thing the muggles did was taking notes. While torturing children!

The children were far gone, all of them half dead. Probably muggleborns, since there hadn't been any reports of missing magical children. A strangled cry came from the room and Harry had the courage to peek inside. The muggle was dressed as a doctor and he was carving into the wizard's sternum.

"I won't tell you a thing! You filthy muggle!" The man wasn't a goner; he had probably been taken here recently. Harry could tell from the lack of wounds. Harry was involuntarily shaking-his every limb. There was blood everywhere, pale-purpled flesh lying in the corner of the room. _Corpses_. They mercilessly carved into the man's skin. Not too deeply- but he knew that would come soon.

"This is nothing! This can't even compare to the cruciatus!" Brave, rather stupid. Gryffindor? No, most likely a Slytherin. They were only a few differences between Gryffindors and Slytherins when it came personality vise. Most Slytherins were just less open about everything. But both was arrogant and had a strong sense of justice. They were either scarily alike or not at all.

"Cruciatus? Do tell." The knife had started to trail the man's shoulders. A woman was furiously taking notes. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Not knowing why he took of his invisibility cloak. Harry took deep intake of breath to collect himself. Suddenly he realized how frustrated this whole situation had made him.

"Don't do anything stupid Harry" commented Light from behind him.

"Crucio" Harry screamed with hand out toward the doctor look alike. The man started to writhe beneath the curse, screaming pitifully. Harry sneered in disgust. Wouldn't he just make the Slytherins proud?

He was tired, oh so tired. From running and also from magical exhaustion just from using such a magically powerful curse for the first time wandlessly. People didn't usually cast wandless unforgivables. That was the darklord's job.

The wizard strapped to the bed blinked up at him in something akin to awe.

BAM

He was hit with a bullet. Straight in the shoulder. The man had fainted but the woman stood there holding a gun. She didn't look very self-assured but he couldn't use a spell or a curse on her- he needed to spare some of his magic to apparate both the wizard and himself out of there.

He leaped to the right, knocking a metallic table over so he could take cover behind it.

"Come out or I'll shot!"

This was not good…wait…what? What kind of logic was it behind that line? He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on stupid phrases.

The death note.

But he didn't know her name.

What to do… What to do? He couldn't exactly ask her for her name. The muggle would probably believe him to make a voodoo doll or something.

Then Light started speaking.

"The shinigami eyes can see all of your names and lifespans" This was not a time for death god lectures, he wanted to scream. But he haltered, what was the point behind this speech? Light would obviously not tell him her name.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"We can make a deal. Give me half of your remaining lifespan and I shall grant you the eyes." Harry snarled. That was beyond an idiotic deal.

For some particular reason Light's expression looked slightly panicked.

"I want a body. A human one. I can give the eyes to you for a month of time. If you have not found out a way before then I will take half your lifespan. You can keep the eyes if you actually create the body." Harry felt his eyes widen. How would he be able to create a body?

Wait a minute.

There was another person who wanted to create a body? –Voldemort. The perfect deal-the stone in exchange for a human body-Light's human body.

"Deal"

The notebook was in his hand and he peeked out behind the table at the furiously screaming woman; "I will kill your friend-I promise- I will!"

Harry wrote the fifth name in the death note that day, to be on the sure side he wrote the sixth too. That one for the unconscious muggle on the floor beside the bed.

He clutched his temporarily forgotten shoulder. Blood was seeping through the white tunic as he stepped up to the wizard strapped to the bed.

"Thank you kid" Not that the wizard had any idea of what he had done to the woman. Harry untied the man. He blinked and stared up over the man's head:

Jonathan Greengrass, 3685 -days left to live. Which was roughly about ten years, he summarized. The man must be his classmate Daphne Greengrass relative, probably her father.

"Is she…"

"Dead, yes." The man was shaking, sweating. When Harry looked closer he could see that the pupils in his eyes were dilated. Muggle drugs.

"I can't apparate in this condition" The man stuttered, reddening slightly. Harry couldn't help but smile humorlessly.

"I can. But we're not going yet" The man looked at him confused.

"We need to find out what they know first. " _'And how many that knows.'_

.-.

**I'll soon try to update again-but this the last week in school and I have a ****lot**** of things to do. Sigh.**

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**If I'm not able to update before Christams: Merry Christmas!**

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	14. Prelude to war part 2

**I'm once again thankful for all the wonderful reviews. **

**Did you have a nice Christmas? Bet you did. Anyways.. I'm really, really sick and soon there's New Year's Eve. (Which I will probably miss-considering.. oh dear lord I was sick last year too. Poor, poor me)..**

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14. Prelude to war part 2

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Sometimes Harry wondered about his sanity. There was absolutely no logic in magic; it shouldn't be able to happen. Physics didn't allow it-how could a human being turn into an animal in the matter of seconds? Logically it made no sense.

But Harry had accepted the invitation to Hogwarts nonetheless. Trying to learn about the logic in magic, it turned out to be quite an impossible feat to accomplish. Of course magic had limits. An example to that was transfiguration. It was only temporarily.

The longest transfiguration performed was the animagus transformation. But if you were an animagus you had already connected with your 'inner animal' and you had become-in a way- that animal. Animagi didn't even have to be counted in in the term transfiguration.

The reason Harry doubted his sanity, at the moment, was the fact that he sat in his room. Not only that. But he sat in his room with his back against his bed clutching his shoulder while blood seeped out of a wound while eating _fudge. _Not to mention the unconscious Jonathan Greengrass that lay on the floor next to him and the amount of files that were spread out in a half formed circle around him.

He was trying to calm down his nerves; in doing so rolling his tongue over the sweet candy seemed like a good problem solver.

'_What am I doing?' _he thought. So Harry got up, trying to do the sensible thing. He didn't know any healing spells and it was too inconvenient to start searching for one now. Mr. Greengrass was also in a bad state; Harry had no idea what so much muggle drugs could do to a wizard's system.

He dragged himself up into a half-standing position. The pain didn't bother him much. But there was the fact that he had gone stiff and almost cold from the blood loss. He had waited too long. The pain was nullified but the awareness spread like poison through his body. If the blood loss got too out of hand he might die.

He reached for the drawer next to his bed and pulled out a quite large pocket knife. Staring down at it Harry took a deep breath. He was an idiot to actually position his own life in the act of laziness.

Carefully he pulled of his sweater and with help of the knife ripped it into pieces. The biggest tuck of cloth he put into his own mouth. The only thing his magic could do was a tiny 'incendio' over the knife.

Sadly this made it burningly warm in his hand… But also more bacteria free.

Harry brazed himself while he put the flat side close to the shot-wound and pushed in. The sharp side had not pierced the skin yet, but the pain was now coming back to awareness. Which did not bring him any happiness.

While pushing the pointy side in and trying to knick the bullet out he harshly bit into the piece of sweater. Damn, was everything supposed to taste like blood?

The bloodied bullet was practically larger than the tip of his thumb. In his half slipping into unconsciousness he felt the wards in the house alert him of a visitor. A visitor-two- trying to get through the floo. It was not Sirius since he was keyed into the wards.

Oh. Realization hit him: The letter.

Harry opened the wards for them.

.-.

Severus and Lucius Malfoy both stood in shock staring into his room. He would have been amused if it weren't for the stinging sensation that went through his whole arm's nerve system up to his shoulder.

Both of their eyes seemed to go from the unconscious body of the pureblood lord and Harry Potter whom were pressing some sort of cloth on a wound that had made a bloodied zigzag pattern down his arm.

If he had energy Harry would be outright laughing right now.

Both of the men then took action after their dumbfounded moment of shock.

Severus was at him in a matter of seconds, healing his wound. He could hear the Malfoy patriarch whisper 'enervate' but the body still didn't move.

"Har-Potter what happened to Greengrass?" Severus asked, the man still didn't know what to call him, he wanted to sigh. Would Harry have to force the man into speaking his first name?

"Muggle drugs I believe"

Once again there was a moment of dumbfounded shock.

Lord Malfoy had healed the wounds on the man's chest but still didn't know what to do about the drug thing. Obviously he wasn't familiar with that sort of medication, but Severus and his ingenious nature would probably find a solution.

"Take this Potter" He took the vial being extended to him and drank without second thought. Blood-replenishing potion. Nasty taste.

Malfoy and Severus switched places so that the potion master and healer could take a look at the drugged wizard. The potion master started to riel up different potions on the floor. Where had they come from? Did Severus carry all of those around? He would probably try to get the drugs out of the wizard's system faster. Hopefully this wouldn't involve puking.

"What happened?" it was something between a demand and a gentle plea that Harry could help but raise his head and look up at the _worried _Malfoy lord. Was he being worried about him? Oh, don't tell-he would get bombarded with marriage contracts again. Harry wondered—to Lucius or Draco?

"Shall I read it for you?" He would anyway. Severus was working and he would need to know this. Lucius Malfoy frowned with a slightly bemused expression on his face when Harry picked up the file summary.

Harry cleared his voice, which was still rather weak and started reading out loud; "-

**Research facilities are being held in Egypt-Cairo, England-London, Norway-Trondheim, China-Wuhan, Florida-Jacksonville.**

**Research-an abnormal disturbance in nature and laws. Possibly an ancient one. This disturbance has been rumored of its existence in fairy tales and such. It is supposedly called 'magic'-an abnormal power that some human possess. **

**This 'magic' is being wielded by human beings. These **_**human beings **_**as we like to call them in anatomy at least are abnormal in their ways. **

**This magic of theirs is being challenged through wooden sticks that are usually somewhere between seven and fourteen inches long. They call them **_**wands. **_

**These magical wielders have their own secluded world we cannot find. **

**Normal people cannot be infused with this magic, the result is fatal. It cannot be infused in newborns or fetuses either. It will all result in instant death or stillborns'. **

**Magic can be detained in some items: these items are crafted by these humans and are most certainly from their civilization.**

'**These people are d**_**angerous**_**. Their mere existence will be the end of us' Johnak Noel, scientist and doctor said. **

**These people can be detected with strong electronical waves. If these waves cease it has something to do with magic. Dangerous for others existence as well, shall not be used if not needed to. **

**More research needed.**

**England government has given their complete support in the research.**

-"

Harry stopped and stared up at the men before him. They seemed tense, for lack of a better wording that is.

"We should tell the ministry, the headmaster" Harry was surprised that it was Malfoy who had said this. The man was an obvious dark supporter-couldn't he do anything without his master? Ah, well. That man would probably make a more _solid _appearance soon.

Harry hissed at the man "I just killed two muggles and used one unforgivable. And I did it to save the only sane being left in that building. Don't go ruin my life just yet, _please _Lord Malfoy"

Had the hectic day taken the toll on him? Hell, it was only ten a.m., and here he was… hissing at a pureblood lord.

.-.

They had finally left. After the whole story. Directions to the muggle researching facility/wizard torture house.

The Malfoy lord had left first-probably going to consult other pureblood families in _his_ findings. He wouldn't be surprised if the man called in some former deatheaters and raided the place; it was probably for the better anyways. Harry wondered if any of them actually cared, or saw the severity of the situation. To them it was just a couple of useless muggles. Would they go to Cairo just to exterminate a couple of muggles? Answer: no.

But they should. Muggles had nuclear bombs for fuck sake. They could wipe out a whole city leaving hardly a trace behind.

Jonathan Greengrass had been next to leave. He had been so thankful, even wanting to give Harry his daughter's hand in marriage. An offer Harry had refused to. He had told the man that he would choose himself instead of going through all of the hundreds marriage contracts he had been given (none of them signed of course).

Severus had left last. After what Harry would call doting on him. The man would make much more of a charge than Sirius Black did. But with Sirius half-crazy attitude he could get away with much.

Now there were only two questions to ask.

How was he going to be able to locate Voldemort? Let alone make the man talk rationally with him?

And where the fuck was Light?

.-.

**Short chap, tell me what you think!**

**.-.**

**How do you believe Harry will find Voldie?**


	15. The ritual

**I'm really bad with this updating thing, sorry.**

**.-.**

15. The ritual

.-.

_**28 days left..**_

Harry sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose while trying to express his frustration. He had twenty-eight days left. Not to live exactly, but before half of his remaining lifespan would go pchoo! It wouldn't be banished to some exiled faraway county, no, it would just cease to exist.

Who knew how many years Harry had left to live? He always said he valued his life but more often he found himself in these life-threatening situations. Maybe he was supposed to die in some sort of freak accident in the end of the next school year. If he was meant to die then, it would happen around Christmas or Yule, whichever feast was preferable.

And did he know he was acting very melodramatic?

Yes, yes he did.

Light had at least returned, the day after the whole episode with Severus, Greengrass and the oh-so-respected lord Malfoy. Light was in somewhat of a bad mood. Apparently because Harry had left him... again. Light had stopped following him around because of this fact. Not that Harry cared.

Harry mentally snorted. Stupid death god. Apparently Harry was childish enough to blame Light for his own blithe decision.

Luckily the death god hadn't asked for his soul. Light must have some ultimate purpose and so why not his soul? _'Because he can take lives with his death note, sitting happily on a thundercloud watching as humans play around him-just like a predator watches their prey'. _So maybe he just wanted to see humans mess up? Make a wreck of humanity? If so, Harry had been a stupid choice as an owner of the notebook. There were other people, power hungry ones that wanted world domination and such things.

Harry noted his mood, he was grumpy. Yes, _grumpy. _Maybe it was because of the fact that his lifespan would half in a matter of twenty-eight days. Hell. Sirius had even noticed it the same morning. Harry had finally snapped as his godfather had gone on and on about that pretty _pink _house he had seen. The only response he had gotten to his sarcastic remark (insult) was a pouting and the word "meany".

At the moment Harry sat in the black library. It felt like a good place to start, even if he had to use dark magic. Not that it bothered him much; it wasn't like he was the most innocent child on earth. He had found so many disgusting _unnecessary _dark curses that his head was on the tip of overload. Somehow spells just got stuck in his head after reading about them. Probably had something to do with his photographic memory. But seriously, who wanted to chant ten sentences in latin just so they could watch a person choke up their own lungs in the slowest way possible?

At least now he knew what people meant when they said Blacks were insane. Hopefully he wouldn't fall in the same category. But it made sense in a way, Harry's father; James Potter's mother had been a Black. James had also been a mean prankster. Mainly Slytherin loners were targeted by his father's cruel pranks. So Harry really hoped he wouldn't get some sort of sadistic pleasure out of seeing people being tortured.

He reached out for one of the heaviest and oldest books. This one book seemed to be bound in some sort of old green leather. The words on the thousand or more pages were almost completely faded out. It looked ancient and from what he could understand it was a book about rituals. Rituals involving a soul.

That made Harry's head swirl. Souls.

The dark lord had possessed someone.

The dark lord's body had been found in ashes all those years ago.

The dark lord did not have a body, but his soul was still here-on earth, Harry concluded.

So he started making out the titles of every chapter. **'Souls-death, Souls- necromancy, Souls-splitting, Souls-searching'**…

Splitting? Harry sneered in disgust-someone actually dared split their own soul?

**Souls-searching…**

Harry Potter, The-boy-who-lived, savior of the wizarding world started researching dark rituals to find the supposedly dead dark lord.

.-.

_**26 days left**_

He had two ingredients left to collect for the ritual. The problem was that he didn't even know if it would work. Old dark magic should not be tempered lightly with.

Two ingredients.

A piece of a dementors cloak and a sacrifice.

That was the reason he was sneaking around in Knockturn Alley. There was also the little problem that at the moment he was being followed.

By a house-elf nonetheless.

Harry took an abrupt turn into a dark alleyway and the little monster followed. Or more like used his house-elf powers to press him up against a wall.

Harry sighed, this was not his day.

"Master Harry Potter sir" the elf squealed in a very squeaky, fast, _annoying _voice. Whoever this elf belonged to Harry felt very sorry for. Kreacher on the other hand was funny with his dark insane insulting blabbering.

"This place is dangerous for yous'- dark wizards everywhere" A random overprotecting house-elf, how peculiar. The elf was flaying its arms around as if the alley itself would try to murder him.

Harry sighed "I'm looking for something"

The elf blinked owlishly "Dobby will help!"

Harry inwardly gave a twisted smirk _'how lovely'_

.-.

He was given an item. A necklace filled with something black that was swirling around, almost like a mist. He shivered in disgust, it felt wrong.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts, there's a plot.." The elf started gushing; someone was plotting world domination again? Probably.

"I can't just leave my friends" not that it was Harry's job to take care of thrm. This was just a way to persuade the elf to go away.

"Friends that doesn't even write to Harry Potter" Dobby whispered almost accusingly.

'_And how do you know that?'_

"I still can't leave them to whatever danger that will occur"

Somehow his act had worked. Dobby's eyes filled with tears and he started ranting on how noble 'Master Harry Potter sir' was.

.-.

_**24 days left**_

The runes were painted in a white round circle. The diameter of it must have been 7 feet. A man lay in the middle of the circle, obviously knocked out.

Harry had been watching the man the whole previous day. The man was quite an infamous muggle, known for his bloodlust and dealings with prostitution. Harry could easily say that he was not impressed. The rumors were very true. The man only worked in the shadiest of business and his work had cost many lives.

The police had been after the man for years. Trying to catch him in the act of illegality. But none had succeeded so far. But Harry, thanks to his invisibility cloak had seen the horrors the man had done. This being done in only one day.

Mark Williams, 0 –days left to live. These shinigami eyes really came in handy. It hadn't been necessary to watch the man, just from the amount of days he had left to live. But Harry liked being on the safe side.

With his magic Harry had stunned the man. Now they both were at an old abounded shack a couple of minutes away from Surrey, Little Whinging.

Preparations had been made- Harry would start the ritual now.

He tossed the amulet holding the dementor cloak inside the circle. Dementors had a strong connection to souls, which was the reason it was used in the ritual.

He placed his fingers on ten of the runes, closed his eyes and focused on his magic.

"A piece of the kissing one..."

The locket opened as from a force of wind. A small black mist rose from the necklace, swirling around the circle before infusing with the runes. They turned black.

"Blood of a virgin…" Why always a virgin? It took place in so many rituals. At least they only meant virgin as in the sexual part.

He took his fingers from the runes and hastily drew a dagger over his palm and let some of his blood drip on the runes. The color changed to a dark red.

"Misery only known by human nature…" Harry sucked in deep; this was probably the hardest part. He had to cry. Harry could openly admit that he was a brilliant actor, but that was mostly in masking his emotions.

But his mind flew to the time he had been locked into a cupboard as child. Neglected of not only love, but care. As a child it had been hard. It had been hard not to understand why the Dursleys loathed him so. Harry had never felt a need for being envious, especially since he had never had any of what Dudley had. The only thing he had wished for was someone to care for him, at least somewhat.

Now he had it, though now when he didn't need it anymore.

Tears spilled over, mostly forced but some of the emotional abuse came with it.

He hadn't cried since he was five. Back when he still didn't understand the unfairness of the world.

The circle's runes turned charcoal green. Just like his eyes.

Harry decided that he didn't like dark magic much. Spells and curses were okay, those were easily used with anger and force.

"A human sacrifice…"

Harry strode over to the body, Mark, stepping into the circle. He picked up the dagger. Silver daggers were needed for rituals to succeed. Harry shuddered; this was going to get bloody.

He brought the blade to the man's neck. With a lot of force and much closed eyes Harry cut into the man's throat.

The still unconscious man took his last breath.

Harry returned to the other side of the circle. Now for the uncertain part.

"A connection to the soul…"

Harry brought his hands down on the runes and closed his eyes. _'Let this work'._

"§Hisss ancessstors tongue…§" He hissed. Parseltongue, something Harry was not supposed to be able to speak. Something impossible for him to gain, something that must have come from Voldemort.

"The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, Tom"

He took a deep breath before chanting the last phrase in latin. It didn't need to be precisely accurate, but better if it was.

"Et inveniet anima tua"

The magic stored up in the circle was going haywire. Reaching out for something. Oh my god, it wouldn't actually summon the soul? Hell, he was going to die.

Die!

But instead the objects in the circle caught fire, or what looked like fire. The flames were a deep violet. Harry backed away either way; he had no masochistic fetish involving burn marks.

When the flames gradually extinguished Harry couldn't help but look at the piece of paper he had found there in disbelief. The circle had conjured a map. A map of all things!

But then he caught site of them, dark purple marks that pulsed with magic.  
>There were seven dots on the map.<p>

Harry felt faint. Lord Voldemort, the dark lord, had split his soul in seven pieces and it seemed like he was one of them.

He should have guessed.

.-.

**Soo…uh.. okay chapter?**

**.-.**

**Please Review!**

**.-.**


	16. Oh, dear

E'llo!

I've made a mess out of this fic. Everything is wrong. Hell, I wrote too many of these chapters on the verge of falling asleep.

So if I don't fix it-rewrite it- I can't bring myself to continue it. But if I'm to rewrite it, it won't be until much later.

**Therefore, if someone wants to adopt the plot and rewrite it, be free to contact me.**

The only requirements I have is that the story line must follow the two/three first chapters.

Cheers!

Just tell me if you want to adopt it.

Do you hate me now? Yup, probably- hihihihi


	17. Adoption notices 2 authors

Adoption notices.

This fic has been adopted by **two different authors**. Both stories will probably be almost completely rewritten and the plots will change.

.-.

One of the authors is called **ManniaOnna11OtakuHpFan**. The story is renamed 'You lose when you die but try not to'. The genre of the story has also changed, mine being more serious, this one will has been marked Romance/humor.

Link: www. fanfiction s/ 8263064/1/ You_lose_when_you_die_but_try_not_to

.-.

The second one is being posted by **taidanapanda**, this one being called 'One note can change the world'.

Link: www. fanfiction s/ 8317470/1/ One_note_can_change_the_world

Cheers, the story is finally continuing!

.-.

I am currently working on two other Harry Potter fics. They both have quite messy but interesting plots that I'm trying to make sense of at the moment. If you're interested just author alert.

Somethingsable


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